


500 Days of Freya

by CordeliaRose



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:05:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 49,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2419541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CordeliaRose/pseuds/CordeliaRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>500 different scenarios and one-shots revolving around Merlin and Freya. Freylin. Rating will not go above T. Varied genres.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Babysitting

_Day 1_

"You wanted to speak with me?"

The dragon flapped his wings once before tucking them neatly against his back. "I must ask a favour of you," he informed his lord gravely. "I have been called away and this little one," he inclined his noble head towards Aithusa, who had just begun the dragon-sense of puberty and looked slightly gangly and awkward, "needs looking after." He gave Merlin a pointed look that took the warlock a few seconds to interpret.

"You want me to—? What? No! I can't!" Merlin protested in pure horror.

Kilgharrah sighed, a deep rumble that started in his stomach. "Why not?"

"Well, for one thing, I don't know how to take care of a dragon," Merlin argued.

"You're a dragonlord; it will be a natural instinct to you."

"And –well –no –but –yes, well-"

Kilgharrah cut off Merlin's spluttering with an exclamation of, "Take her!" before soaring up into the night sky.

Aithusa and Merlin looked at each other. Merlin sighed. Aithusa chirped and bounded over to wind around Merlin's legs. "This better not be bloody permanent," he said, sighing and looking down at his young charge.

LINE BREAK

"Freya!" Merlin called out, happily jogging over to his wife. She giggled in delight as he spun her around.

"Hello, Merlin," she laughed. "And…Aithusa," she added, catching sight of the albino dragon.

The pair winced as an ornament smashed on the floor, thanks to a clumsy swing of Aithusa's tail.

LINE BREAK

_Day 2_

"Morning," Freya said sleepily. Merlin opened one eye.

"I was having a nice daydream, you know." He poked her playfully.

"I'm sure," Freya replied, sitting up and stretching. The action caused Merlin's nightshirt (which she had worn to bed) to rise several inches, and Merlin playfully ghosted his cold hand over the warm flesh of her stomach.

She squealed and curled in on herself. "Bad," Freya scolded, slapping Merlin's hand.

In response, Merlin leant in and kissed her gently. She did likewise, and Merlin rested his hand on her thigh.

"Emrys!"

Aithusa barged into the room and plumped down onto the end of the bed. Merlin and Freya both stared at her. Aithusa stared back. Merlin and Freya looked at each other and sighed.

"Come on, 'Thusa," Merlin said, clambering out of bed.

LINE BREAK

Freya was taking the opportunity to practice a new spell Merlin had taught her by cooking breakfast. So far, she had cooked six sausages – for her and Merlin – and six small assorted mammals for Aithusa.

"Let me help!" Aithusa yelled enthusiastically. She bounded up to the table, tail swinging behind her dangerously. She swung her tail into a pottery plate and jug, sending them crashing to the floor.

"Oh no!" Aithusa cried with comical woe.

"It's fine, I'll get it!" Freya said hastily. She muttered a spell, waved her hand and smiled as the pieces flew back together.

"Wow! That was so cool!" the young dragon grinned. As she turned to look at the healed ornaments too quickly, her tail swung out again, and caught a leg of the table. It collapsed onto a point and Freya wasn't quick enough to catch it.

Three more plates smashed. The cooked meat became smothered in dirt. Then the table fell over completely.

Aithusa turned round with a mingled look of horror, guilt and surprise on her draconic face. Freya took three deep breaths in and three deep breaths out.

LINE BREAK

"She does snore rather loudly, doesn't she?"

"Yes, Merlin. She does."

LINE BREAK

_Day 3_

"Merlin!" Arthur yelled, storming into the warlock's chambers.

"Merlin!" Aithusa squeaked, being dragged into the warlock's chambers by her tail.

"Arthur!" Freya shrieked. "You can't pull her by her tail!"

"Let her go, Arthur," Merlin demanded, glowering at Arthur.

Force was the only way to go; if something had annoyed Arthur so severely he was dragging her by her tail, he'd need some pretty firm handling.

"This…demon…" Arthur ground out, "has been terrorizing members of staff by…FLYING around the castle and…breathing fire. Sort it!" he spat at the pair.

He let go of the dragon who scuttled towards Freya, and then stalked towards the door.

"You haven't had your breakfast yet, have you?"

"MERLIN!"

LINE BREAK

"They're getting closer," Merlin said worriedly.

"We need to warn Arthur," Freya agreed.

"Warn Arthur about what?" Aithusa chirped, galloping into the room. Her earlier quarrel with the king seemed to have been forgotten. "Oh, are you scrying?" Aithusa perked up and clambered over to the pair.

They both waited for the inevitable smash. When nothing happened, Freya exhaled heavily and Merlin cheered.

"What?" Aithusa asked in surprise, turning around, evidently under the impression that there was some spectacle of greatness behind her.

LINE BREAK

_Day 4_

"Take her! Just take her!" Merlin begged Kilgharrah, pointing to Aithusa beside him.

Kilgharrah raised a metaphorical eyebrow. "Did you not enjoy her stay with you, Merlin?"

"Don't push me, Dragon!" Merlin stomped back to Camelot, and back to Freya.

 


	2. Pregnancy

"It's been four months, Freya."

The court sorcerer's wife twisted her neck slightly to see The King, and then resumed her staring out of the window. "He will come back," she said softly. "He wouldn't leave me, not ever."

Arthur sighed and trudged dejectedly down the few steps to Freya. He rested a hand on her shoulder and joined her in patient waiting.

Suddenly Freya let out a strangled sob; then another escaped, and then came a flood of tears and pitiful wails.

Arthur, unsure of how to react, rubbed Freya's shoulder. Gwen appeared at the bottom of the staircase, apparently attracted by the sobs, and hurried upwards, clutching her skirts so she wouldn't trip. Once she reached the pair, she shot Arthur a dirty glance and took Freya into her arms, soothing better than Arthur could or would ever be able to.

Amongst the incomprehensible jumble of words from Freya that followed, Arthur picked out three sole syllables: "I'm with child."

"What?" Arthur blurted out. Gwen shot him a look that silenced him effectively. "In hindsight, perhaps not the best idea.

"How long?" he tried instead.

"Gaius said – four – months, so just before – he left," Freya gasped out between hiccupping sobs.

Suddenly there was a chaotic mess of noise that came from the courtyard: a clatter of frantic hooves, shouts, cheers, yells demanding The King, and "Clot-pole! I'm back!"

There was a moment of pure silence after the roar, in which all of the kerfuffle outside seemed to pause. Not one of the trio spoke or even breathed.

Then Freya let out a loud, wild (and most unlady-like) whoop, a shriek of "MERLIN!" and then practically flew down the staircase and out of the door.

Arthur and Gwen were hot on her heels, and burst out of the arched wooden doors in time to see Freya leap onto Merlin. He closed his eyes and rocked backwards and forwards slightly, tangling one hand in Freya's hair. The other gripped round her hip, as if he scarcely believed she was real.

After a few seconds of their silent reunion, Merlin opened his eyes and sifted through the crowd, offering gingerly-formed smiles (he had several cuts on his lips) to those he knew, and mouthed words to those he knew well.

When his eyes found the two monarchs, his vision lingered on them a while before he made any action.

 _I'm sorry_ , he mouthed, _for being so long_.

It was only then that Arthur took notice of the various injuries littered about his person. Freya, too, had seemed to realize, and was now anxiously examining a deep gash on his left forearm.

Arthur strode towards the gangly man, who was now (unsuccessfully) trying to persuade Freya that he was "absolutely fine".

"No, you're not," Arthur greeted. "But I'm glad you're back." He pulled him into a heart hug and clapped him on the back lightly, afraid of disturbing any more unseen wounds.

When he released him, Merlin beamed quite happily and sincerely, beginning to assure him that he really was "just dandy".

Freya took his hand in her two, surprising him into silence effectively. "I know some of the more basic healing spells," she said more to Arthur than Merlin, "from my time with The Druids. I can probably fix up some of the less major ones until we can see Gaius; he's out collecting herbs right now," she informed Merlin.

"I agree," Merlin said quickly.

"Of course you do," Arthur said. "Go on then."

LINE BREAK

"The sea, Freya – the sea! It glittered in the sunset and shone so brightly at the sunrise it hurt your eyes to look at it."

Freya smiled at his enthusiasm. Now that she had finished sealing up the small cuts and fading the bruises slightly he was back to his usual gesticulation, waving his arms around manically and jumping up to act out something or another.

"Merlin…" Freya said softly, hesitantly. So full of enthusiasm was he that she had to repeat his name several more times before he stopped bounding around the room, examining possessions with glee ("Oh, I forgot I about this!")

"Yes?" he said, looking comically like a child caught doing wrong as he dropped a book entitled 'Poisons of the Highest' – she didn't want to know – and focused his attention on her.

Freya's lips quirked up into a trembling smile – she felt quite certain she was going to cry with happiness. "I'm pregnant."

There was a look of stunned astonishment decorating Merlin's features. Then he whooped with joy, and ran over to his wife, scooping her up in a joyful hug. She giggled in joy and secured herself by folding her arms around his neck.

He put her back down carefully and studied her stomach intensely. "You're not showing yet."

"No, I had noticed myself."

He ignored her sarcasm – or just didn't pick up on it – and continued, "Have you announced it yet? To the court, I mean."

"Not yet. I was planning to say once the bump started to show."

"We'll do that then," Merlin replied, eyes still fiercely locked on her belly as if it would suddenly expand right before his eyes. Then he straightened up and ran over to his desk, retrieving a scroll and quill along with an ink-pot. It left a trail of black spots as he sprinted back to Freya, sliding to a sitting position and dipping the quill into the pot.

"We are going to need so many more things!" He enthused. "A cot, clothes, more food—"

"Merlin, we can't get stuff like clothes until we've had the baby. We don't know the sex or size or—"

Merlin silenced her with a kiss. "Oh," Freya breathed into the embrace. She had forgotten what it felt like to be touched by Merlin.

When they pulled away, Merlin said with certainty, "It will be a girl, and she will look like you, and have my eyes."

And she did.

 


	3. Kitchen

Freya was stretched out on the sofa, various cushions scattered about the floor from where she had kicked them off. She was covered with a maroon blanket, which had fallen down on her left side slightly. Merlin blushed slightly at the sight of her bare shoulder – upon further inspection, he found her dress and bra laying in a heap just adjacent to the coffee table.

She snored gently and nuzzled into a cushion, murmuring nonsensical words. Merlin smiled at her and made his way through to his kitchen, yawning as he went and ruffling his messy hair. He flicked on the kettle and went to grab a frying pan. He swung open the cupboard door, paused, then went back to the kettle, which was making a strange, piercing wail.

"Doesn't sound too good," Freya commented, padding into his kitchen and flopping down at the table.

"No, I forgot to put any water in," Merlin replied, peering inside the plastic device. He slipped over to the sink and winced as the tap splashed cold water back into his face. Freya giggled at his "Mrrur" of discomfort and he turned back to chastise her. All he got out of his mouth was "Shu-" before he ran out of voice. Freya was still just wearing the blanket, which was wrapped around her like a cocoon.

Blushing, Merlin turned back to the kettle and pressed the backs of his hands to his cheeks, hoping the cool flesh would soothe his burning face. To his mortification, this did little to help. He quickly tried to banish all thoughts of what Freya looked like underneath the blanket. He took a moment to praise his earlier decision of getting changed before coming to make breakfast – he dreaded what situation he would be in if he was still clad in his baggy pyjama bottoms rather than his skinny jeans.

"'Shu-' what?" Freya prompted. She blinked at him, looking innocently beautiful with a face bare of make-up and a serious bed-head.

"'Shu-' nothing," Merlin said hastily. Seeing her face in his peripheral vision, he added, "Honest, it doesn't matter."

Freya pouted playfully at him. "Tell me," she cheeped cheerily.

"You don't need to know." Luckily for Merlin, the kettle boiled at that moment and he distracted himself by fetching two mugs and the jar of ground coffee. Studiously ignoring Freya's gaze, Merlin spooned granules and poured milk and added boiling water.

"Here," he said, sliding her cup over to her and taking a sip of his own. It was earthy and bitter, just how he liked it. Then he set it down again, well aware of Freya watching him over the rim of her own.

"It's rude to keep things from your best friend," she said suddenly – Merlin almost dropped the pan he had just retrieved and she snickered.

"Would you like boiled or scrambled eggs?"

"Stop avoiding my question."

"Stop avoiding mine."

Freya narrowed her eyes at him. "Scrambled – oh, is that bacon?"

"And mushrooms," Merlin replied.

"Yum. Toast as well?" Freya asked eagerly.

"There will be plentiful toast."

"Good. Now I've answered your question – you have to answer mine."

Merlin sighed, tipping mushrooms into the frying pan. "I was going to say 'shut up', alright?"

Freya raised her eyebrows. "So why did you stop? You've told me to shut up plenty of times before."

"My brain just…" Merlin made a few useless gestures in the general direction of his head. "It has a moment, and it temporarily forgot how to form words."

"You mean, basically what happens every other time you try to speak?" Freya teased, eyes twinkling.

"Yes." _But only when I'm speaking to you,_ he added in his mind.

"You feeling alright? You're very quiet." Freya sipped her coffee, peering at him with curious eyes.

"I'm fine. I'm just a bit tired – someone woke me up at 3am this morning because she needed a place to crash." Merlin raised his eyebrows at her pointedly before turning his attention back to the now spitting bacon.

"Not my fault! Morgana locked me out because she had Gwaine over for the night!" Freya protested.

Merlin let out a long-suffering sigh. "What about Gwen's?"

"She was out with Arthur last night." Then Freya's eyes widened and she asked anxiously, "You don't really mind me crashing here, do you?"

Merlin, in the process of retrieving butter from his small fridge, attempted to stand up with his head, neck and most of his upper back still in the fridge. The result of this was an "Ow!", a loud thump that didn't sound too brilliant for the work surface about it and what sounded like maybe a lettuce rolling across the tiles.

A few seconds later, a thoroughly red in the face Merlin emerged (whether he was red in the face from pain or embarrassment, or quite possibly both, was a mystery to Freya), holding – indeed – a lettuce. "Of course I don't mind you crashing here?" he exclaimed. "You're my best friend, Freya, and I love you to bits!"

Freya was spared trying to find a response as compassionate by the smoke alarm going off. "Shit," he cursed. He darted back to the stove and frantically twisted dials until everything was turned off.

He looked relieved, but only momentarily. The incessant "BRP-BRP-BRP" caused a scowl to cross his features and he stormed over to where the alarm was fitted, grabbing a tea-towel along the way.

Growling at the noise - Freya giggled quietly to herself, Merlin was comic when he was annoyed – Merlin began to swat at the air around the alarm.

Within seconds, the galling sound stopped; somehow the silence that now fell between them both seemed to scream louder.

Merlin busied himself with slotting bread into the toast and clashing plates together, and serving their almost-burnt breakfast.

*LINE BREAK*

"That was delicious," Freya proclaimed as she leaned back in her chair, nibbling at her last slice of toast – by Merlin's count, her sixth.

"Thank you." Merlin stood up, scraping his chair back and collecting their plates.

"I didn't know you could cook so well," Freya commented, also getting to her feet and shuffling after him.

Merlin snorted. "It was hardly cooking. I just threw some stuff into pots and pans and heated it up."

"You didn't burn it though," Freya pointed out.

"Well, yeah, there's that." Merlin dumped the plates in the sink.

"I would," Freya said dejectedly. "Can't cook my way out of a paper bag."

"You don't _need_ to be able to cook your way out a paper bag." Merlin pulled her into a hug, trying to not dislodge her blanket.

This proved to be harder than originally thought. "Oh – sorry!" exclaimed Merlin as he tried to free his hand from a fold in the blanket, and nearly pulled it clean off Freya.

"It's alright," Freya giggled. "I wouldn't mind." Then she realised what she'd said and backtracked hastily, turning bright pink: "I mean, I would mind, but if it was by accident, then it wouldn't be so bad, because I don't really mind if you see me naked if it was by accident because you're not purposely trying to see me naked." Freya looked down, obviously embarrassed, and it was then that Merlin made up his mind.

He ducked his head down to Freya's level and, uncertainly and hesitantly, pressed his lips against hers.

Freya responded in much the same way. She lifted her head up just enough to be easily kissing Merlin back, but it was still pretty awkward – neither of them were totally sure what to do, and there was a little too much clumsy teeth involved for either of their liking.

When they broke apart, Freya started up at Merlin. "Does this mean we're dating?" she asked breathlessly.

Merlin chuckled. "If you want us to be," he answered hopefully, tucking some of her tangled hair behind her ear.

"I would like that," Freya said quickly, and then added, "very much."

Their second kiss was much better.

 


	4. Persephone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Merlin version of a famous Greek myth, about Persephone and Hades. If you don't know the myth, I'll explain it briefly here. If you do, then skip to the next paragraph where I'll have the characters translated. Basically, Hades was the god of the underworld and Zeus's brother. Persephone, who is the daughter of Demeter, is also Hade's niece. Demeter is the goddess of nature. One day Persephone was walking with her naiad companions when the ground opened and swallowed her. One particular companion, called Cyane, was so upset that she dissolved into a river. The others did not try to help Persephone, so in a rage, Demeter turned them into hideous creatures – the sirens. She set off to find her daughter and there are lots of different versions of what happened for the next bit, but then she was led to Helios. Helios watches everything and he informed her of what happened. She appealed to Zeus, but Persephone had already been tricked into eating the seeds of a pomegranate from Hades. In the laws of the ancient world, this bound Persephone to Hades. Eventually, her mother managed to get her back for either nine, eight or six months (each version varies) of the year, and Hades got her for the remainder.
> 
> Merlin – Demeter (yes, Demeter is meant to be Persephone's mother, but I had to make it fit)  
> Freya – Persephone  
> Uther – Hades  
> Arthur - Zeus

Freya smiled against Merlin's lips as he ran his hands down her back, his fingers catching in the loose material she wore wrapped around her body. It was a fine, warm day and as their embrace continued, flowers pushed through the earth and twisted around their ankles, vibrant and beautiful. Reluctantly, Freya broke off from her lover with a pleased sigh. "I have to go and walk now," she explained, patting him on the arm and collecting her cloak.

Merlin groaned. "Surely it can wait, my dear?" He hated when Freya had to leave him; it meant he had to go and attend to his duties, such as helping the peasant farmers' crops grow. Don't make the mistake of thinking that Merlin was neglectful in his duties, or that he didn't enjoy them; he just enjoyed Freya more.

"I promised Cyane I would walk with her through the fields," Freya rebuked gently, fiddling with the clasp at the front of her cloak. "I think she is bringing our other companions as well, and I really cannot stay any longer. I am already late."

Merlin sighed, but handed his lover the basket that she was accustomed to taking with her on strolls; she liked to collect particularly beautiful flowers so that Merlin could recreate them in their private garden.

LINE BREAK

"Tell me, Cyane," Freya said, linking arms with the sweet girl. "What is new?"

"Nothing much," she replied, but then a mischievous twinkle entered her green eyes. "How are you and Merlin?"

Freya laughed, a soft lilting note. "We are good, but…" She hesitated. "Forgive me if I sound too quick to judge, but he seems almost as if he is growing tired of me sometimes."

Cyane looked shocked. "I'm sure that it is not so, Freya. I…I do not know, but it is harvesting season for the farmers. I'm certain that he is just overworked and busy with all of the offerings he is receiving and all of the crops that he must overlook."

Freya sighed. "I hope that you are right, Cyane." She opened her mouth to speak again but then spotted an odd fissure in the dirt road. "Excuse me one moment." She untangled her arm from Cyane's and walked over to the small crack, running her finger over it. That seemed to trigger something, as it glowed red hot and painful for a second before it split open wider.

With a scream for help, Freya tumbled forwards into the crack. Cyane rushed forwards but the crack had sealed itself, and however much she scrabbled at the ground, it would not open again. Tears streamed down her face and turned into muddy puddles on the ground. Through her tears, she screeched, "Get Merlin!"

LINE BREAK

When Merlin arrived, there was a river in the place of Cyane. He stared in amazement at the water that now ran instead of the path. "Where is Cyane?" he demanded, for she was the one who had commanded the other nymphs to fetch him.

"She cried so much she turned into a river, Merlin," one of the nymphs replied quietly. She too was staring in shock at the river. Merlin cursed under his breath. He glared round at Freya's companions; none but Cyane had tried to save her.

It took a few words to transform them to hideous, scaled creatures, quite a contrast from their previously beautiful forms that many men lusted after. Merlin felt only pure anger for what had happened, and he thought that he had an idea what happened.

Growling, Merlin turned to the sky and addressed Helios. He observed everything that went on underneath him, and he knew that the sun God had a soft spot for Freya; as he and Merlin worked so closely together, the two were closely acquainted.

Helios appeared in front of him, a blinding flash of gold. "Merlin," he spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. "What can I help you with?"

"Did you see who took Freya?" he asked urgently.

Helios paused. "A crack opened up in the ground. I cannot say for certain, but I suspect Uther to be the suspect."

Merlin ground his teeth together. Of course it was Uther. Uther was jealous of Freya; she was a lot like his late wife, not only in looks but in nature. "I will go to Arthur," he informed Helios, who nodded his agreement and vanished back into the sky.

LINE BREAK

"Arthur," Merlin pleaded with the king, "please bring her back to me. She should be up here with us, in the land of the living. She loves nature, she will be hating the gloom of the underworld."

Arthur sighed and ran a hand over his face. His father Uther was rather overbearing and cruel, but up until now he had been able to control him. Obviously he was not anymore, but what was he to do?

LINE BREAK

Freya knew she was not meant to, but she couldn't resist. She was terrified out of her wits; she knew Uther, of course, as all of the deities knew each other, but she had never been alone with him, let alone kidnapped by him. She knew eating the food of another meant that you could not leave their home; but she hadn't remembered that in time, and Uther had been so kind when he offered her the platter of pomegranate seeds.

She had consumed four of them before remembering the laws of the universe. She froze and cursed herself, for it was her own lips and stupidity that had sealed her fate. Uther had long since departed and she fell to the floor, sobbing. She wanted Merlin back. She wanted to be with Merlin again. Now she never could.

LINE BREAK

It took several days until negotiations were settled. Freya was to return to Merlin for the majority of the year, and the two met each other with tears and kisses and whispers of how sorry they were for what had happened. For three months, she would be returned to the Underworld with Uther, who was definitely not content with the situation. He was scared of Arthur though, who he knew had the power to strike him down, and conditions were laid out so Freya would be safe.

It was not ideal but it was enough.

For three months every year, the ground turned to ice and snow fell and crops were ruined. Merlin's despair for Freya was strong, and then when she was returned to him, trees bloomed and flowers blossomed once more.

 


	5. Secret Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "merlin is going to meet freya secretly for a secret date and arthur follows him and ruins it" - bubbles002 on fanfiction.net

Merlin looked up, licking his lips nervously, from where he was scrubbing the floor. "Arthur," he said hesitantly.

Arthur looked up from his papers, looking mildly irritated at the distraction. "Yes, Merlin?" He pinched the bridge of his nose, as was one of his idiosyncrasies when stressed.

"I was wondering whether I could have the evening off?" Merlin crossed his fingers underneath the rag he was used, and attempted to look as demure as possible.

Arthur eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

Merlin cursed inside his head, and stuttered out, "I have…to…help…G…Gaius." Yes, that would do. "Yes. Gaius."

Arthur stared at him for a while longer with arched eyebrows. "Alright," he said finally, nodding slowly. "As long as you get all your chores done before then." He resumed reading through his documents.

Merlin began scouring the floor once again, relieved and pleasantly taken aback to have gotten off so lightly.

Little did he know that Arthur wasn't reading through his papers. Instead, he was plotting.

LINE BREAK

Merlin walked out of his chambers approximately three-quarters of an hour after he had left Arthur's chambers. He was wearing a different shirt, Arthur noticed. And a different neckerchief. It looked nice.

As Merlin strode down the corridor, Arthur slipped out of a nearby alcove and stalked after him, taking care to stay secluded in the shadows cast by the flickering torches. He was holding something in his hand, Arthur's keen eyes picked out, and when Merlin passed through a beam of light streaming in via a clear, latticed window, Arthur saw it was a single red rose.

Arthur tracked his manservant out of the castle and trod carefully through the cobblestones of the court-square, ensuring that his heavy, leather boots did not catch or make a noise. It earned him some strange glances from the guards on duty, but they let it slide, and Arthur found that he could ignore it.

Merlin had acted particularly oddly earlier that day, weirder than usual, and Arthur was determined to find out why. It obviously wasn't Gaius; why was Merlin wandering into the lower town with a red rose?

Well, the answer to that was pretty clear – he was obviously seeing someone who he was romantically involved with.

But who was she?

Or was it a man?

Arthur resolved then and there to accept Merlin whoever he was seeing. He would support him, he would still love him the same – well, not love him, because he was platonically fond of Merlin, but they weren't friends, so obviously he didn't love him – anyway, he would get involved with this and raise awareness for the minority of the population that Merlin was in –

By the time Arthur snapped back to reality, he had convinced himself that Merlin was seeing a man, definitely, it was in no way a girl; and that Merlin was nowhere to be seen. Glancing around hurriedly, he noticed a figure knocking on a door of a small, but rather charming little house made of wood.

He stole over to the opposite house, and crouched down in the veil it gave him – the figure was Merlin, thankfully.

Arthur watched, wide-eyed, as the door opened and light spilled onto the ground, illuminating Merlin's rather tremendous smile, and a man was cast into shadow, only his silhouette displayed. He stepped out and threw his arms around Merlin, and as he came out of the doorway his face was undimmed.

Arthur's jaw dropped.

It was a woman. Not a man.

Merlin had a romantic partner who was a girl.

The girl spoke a few words to Merlin, still wrapped around him, and then they kissed – kissed – and retreated inside.

It was a few moments before Arthur remembered to breathe.

LINE BREAK

Arthur decided to let Merlin finish his date. Then he would leap out, confront him and make him tell him everything.

Arthur complimented himself on his brilliant idea, and then sat back to wait.

And waited.

And waited.

It was rather cold, Arthur thought. He tapped his foot to keep himself warm.

 _I'm the king of Camelot and I'm crouched outside a peasant's house in the middle of winter, in a load of mud, waiting for my manservant to finish his date so I can bully him into telling me who his partner is._ Arthur decided to spend the next few minutes re-evaluating his choices in life.

Arthur made up a tune, slapping his knees and humming a tune. _That's it. I could be a bard._

_I should have stayed at home._

_How long does it take to have a date?_ Arthur considered again. _Could take all night, actually._

_I miss Guinevere._

_Will I ever make it out of this alive?_

Finally, Arthur became fed up with waiting. He jumped up, wincing at his knees as the frigid joints clicked back into place, and, with a stance worthy of the King of Camelot, strode over to the wooden house.

Well, he tried. Halfway there, he slipped over in some not-so-frozen-solid-mud. He cursed, rather quietly, in case anyone came to investigate and saw the King with a face full of mud, cursing like Gwaine after two jugs of mead.

Arthur stood up again, resigning himself to using his hands to stagger back up, and this time managed to get the full way to the house. He knocked smartly and waited for the door to be opened.

LINE BREAK

There was a knock at the door. "Ignore it," Merlin murmured against Freya's lips, tightening his grip on her hips to stop her from answering. "Won't be anything important."

"Mm-kay," Freya replied, easily slipping back into the hazy pleasure of kissing Merlin.

There was another snappish knock on the wood and Freya sighed in annoyance, trying to squirm away from Merlin's firm hold. "Ignore it," he muttered again, detaching his lips from Freya's and admiring his lover. "It's nearly midnight, it won't be anyone you want to talk to. Most likely some crazy sorcerer."

"True," Freya agreed, and began tugging at Merlin's shirt. He grinned and raised his arms to aid her in slipping it off; she tossed it onto the floor somewhere and started to embrace Merlin again, running her hands over his bare chest.

Slowly Freya pushed him back onto her bed, lying down on top of him and moving down to nuzzle into his neck, earning herself a few gasps from Merlin as she pulled her dress down to her waist and pressed her body against his.

LINE BREAK

Arthur really was getting impatient now. He was wet, cold, dirty and he wanted to find out who Merlin's girlfriend was.

He had knocked over and over again, and nothing had happened.

So, as he told himself, his actions were justified – his actions being bursting into the house.

Behaviour most befitting a king.

Needless to say, Merlin and Freya were fairly startled when this happened.

LINE BREAK

Arthur burst into the house and spun around on the spot, blinking at the sudden brightness of the many lit candles. Then he saw Merlin and his girlfriend.

" _My eyes_!" Arthur howled and hurried to cover them, retching as the image ran through his mind – Merlin kissing. And shirtless.

"Arthur!" Merlin exclaimed, scrambling to cover Freya.

"Merlin!" Freya squealed, "Who's that?"

"Freya –" Merlin began.

"Freya?" Arthur said, taking a wary glance through his hands to see if it was safe. When he saw that Freya was now fully-dressed again, and Merlin was pulling his shirt on, he lowered his hands.

He took in the empty plates on the table, the messy covers on the bed, the ruffled hair of the two standing in front of him, looking rather like children caught misbehaving…

Arthur grinned at Merlin, who smiled back hesitantly. "Let's have a talk, shall we, Merlin?"

 


	6. Care

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Freya has to look after Merlin after he was captured and tortured" - masterthiefstone on fanfiction.net

Freya paced her room restlessly, twisting her hands together as she rolled her shoulders back and forth. Guinevere glanced up from her paperwork and sighed at her. "Sit," she said commandingly, indicating the empty, oaken chair beside her.

Freya huffed and threw herself into the chair with such force that it rocked backwards, and she had to grab the table to pull herself back. The legs hit the ground with a resounding echo and Gwen winced as Freya started drumming on the table.

"Freya, he's coming back," she said gently to the agitated woman. Freya looked at her and nodded.

"You're right," she said, taking her hands from the table and laying them on her lap. Gwen sighed in relief and resumed her working.

"They'll be back soon enough, mark my words," the older woman murmured, signed her name with a flourish at the bottom of a page.

"I hope so," Freya responded, drawing her legs up to her chest, smoothing her long, lilac dress down over her knees.

LINE BREAK

Night was falling and they still hadn't returned.

Freya was sitting in Gwen's chambers, both of them by the fire, wine in one hand and nibbling at various meats and fruits with the other. Freya had been anxious and tense all day, but with the aid of Gwen's jokes (and wine) had relaxed considerably.

Gwen spluttered with laughter and sprayed wine over the floor from her mouth. Freya laughed hysterically as Gwen attempted to cover her mouth and recover her dignity, neither with any real success.

When their laughter had died down, Freya took another sip from her glass and swallowed happily, the luxurious, thick liquid slipping easily down her throat. "What are you and Arthur going to do when they get home?" Freya asked, her eyes glinting mischievously as she nudged Gwen with her bare feet.

"Much the same as you and Merlin probably," Gwen giggled. "Stay in bed all night and then all the next day!"

Freya burst into hysterics again, even though she wasn't exactly sure why that comment was so hilarious. "You two can't, you have duties to fulfil!"

"Ah, yes. The struggles of being queen," Gwen sighed, in mock dramatics, and then giggled again, taking another sip of wine.

Freya opened her mouth to retort but a messenger burst into the room, looking rather confused as he saw the Queen and her First Lady rolling around on the floor in fits of laughter, several bottles that used to contain wine scattered around the room.

"Sorry for bursting in, my ladies, but I have an urgent message," the messenger blurted out. "The King and his accompaniers have returned from their quest."

Freya and Gwen sprang to their feet, setting the wine aside. "Shall I tell them you are coming to meet them?" the messenger asked politely.

"Yes!" Gwen yelled, pulling her shoes back on, and hurrying to collect her shawl.

LINE BREAK

"Arthur!" Gwen shouted joyously as she and Freya pelted down the steps leading into Camelot's courtyard. The King looked up and his face broke into a large smile as he saw his wife.

Freya searched the group anxiously. "Where's Merlin?" she asked, wondering whether he had retreated to the stables to attend to his horse himself, instead of the groom.

The knights looked at her, and then at each other, and a couple of them opened their mouths to speak, but no words came out. They glanced over to Arthur, who detached himself from Gwen and walked over to Freya.

"He was grievously injured, Freya. I'm sorry," Arthur said, with tears sparkling in his eyes. "He's gone straight to Gaius – we tried out best to heal him and he might get better, but—"

Freya shook her head. "No. Not Merlin," she protested. She felt suddenly light headed and sat down on the ground. "Not Merlin," she repeated, looking at Arthur pleadingly.

A tear spilled onto Arthur's cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking from the lump constricting his throat.

Freya stayed sitting for a few more minutes, the sounds around her seemed muffled, as if she was trapped underwater. She felt Arthur place his hand on her shoulder but didn't really notice it, it wasn't terribly important just then.

A thought came into her mind, clear and simple: _Get to Merlin._

Freya bolted up suddenly and turned on her heel; fleeing up the steps, she took the passages to Gaius's chambers without thinking properly, letting her feet guide her down the familiar paths.

She burst into his chambers and ran over to the crouched figure, bending down at the bed and stroking the face of her husband. "Gaius, how is he?" she asked urgently, looking up at the kindly old man.

Gaius, who had seemed slightly flustered at the sudden entrance of Freya, regarded her with an arched eyebrow, and gave the weighted reply, "He should pull through, if he responds well to my treatment. It will take time."

"I want to stay with him," Freya said resolutely, perching on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb Merlin. She gazed down on her husband as Arthur knocked on the door and rushed in, albeit slower than Freya had.

He could be sleeping if Freya didn't know better. His face wasn't too badly scratched; there was a fairly short gash that cut through his eyebrow and one that had taken a nice chunk out of his chin. Freya suspected that the real damage lay underneath his clothes.

She looked up as Arthur approached and demanded, "What happened?"

Arthur retrieved a chair from one of Gaius's workstations and dragged it over to the bed. It made a piercing, screeching wail as it caught on the stone floor and all three in the room winced. Arthur set the chair down opposite Freya and sat down, ready to begin.

"We were travelling through a thick forest, about six miles east of here. All was going well, and we were talking amongst each other, and laughing and joking. Gwaine was telling some obscene story about a woman – I'll spare you the details. We were all groaning and telling Gwaine to shut up, when Gwaine turned around to say something to Merlin.

"He wasn't on his horse. His horse was still trotting along with the rest of us, but without Merlin on her back. We stopped and tracked back, calling out for Merlin, when we found him lying on the road." Arthur swallowed, the next part painful to speak of. "He was collapsed on his back, with an arrow in his shoulder, knocking out but still breathing.

"We picked him up and Percival settled him in front of him on his horse. We rode back to Camelot as soon as we could, and Percival carried him straight to Gaius." Arthur twisted in his seat to glance at the respected physician. "The rest of the tale we'll have to hear from Gaius, if he's willing."

Gaius limped over to where the two were sitting and joined Arthur in dragging a chair out. He cleared his throat and began.

"Well, Percival carried Merlin in here, and laid him down on the bed. I removed the arrow from his shoulder and applied a tincture of rosemary, thyme and saffron to the wound after I stopped the bleeding. I then bandaged it and checked for any other injuries. He has several cuts and bruises lower down his body but nothing too serious. The only thing of any great concern right now is whether there is bleeding inside the body."

Freya wrapped her hand around Merlin's protectively, then addressed her next question to Arthur, "So you don't know who did it?"

"I'm afraid not," Arthur replied, his eyes scanning Merlin's face, registering the minor injuries there.

"Are you going to find out?" Freya asked, squeezing her free hand tightly.

"I'm not sure we can, Freya," Arthur spoke gently to soothe the frazzled woman in front of him.

"You have to!" Freya insisted. "We have to bring him to justice!" She looked down upon her husband and then back at Arthur with pleading eyes. "Please, Arthur."

Arthur ran a hand over his face. "I want whoever did this to be punished as badly as you do, believe me, Freya, and if there was anything I could do, you can be assured that I would be doing it. For the time being at least, there is nothing we can do except hope Merlin will recover."

"There has to be something," Freya said desperately. She couldn't just sit here while Merlin was possibly dying, she had to do something to bring his attacker to justice.

Arthur moved onto the bed next to Freya, enveloping her in a hug. "I know you want to do something to feel like you're helping Merlin," he murmured, "but what will help him right now is your love…and I'm sure that Gaius would appreciate your help." Arthur looked to Gaius and the physician nodded solemnly, adding, "Any help, especially from your skilled hands, would be of great help, Freya."

Freya nodded. "Thank you, Gaius." She cleared her throat. "When shall I start?"

LINE BREAK

_Three weeks later_

"Why hasn't he woken up yet, Gaius?" Freya asked from where she was grinding herbs, looking at the aged physician.

"I don't know, Freya," Gaius replied evenly, hobbling over to the bed where Merlin still lay. He peered at his shoulder. "At least his wound has cleared up with no infection, and sealed together nicely." He glanced over at Freya's worried expression. "Sometimes people are asleep for a long time because their bodies are taking the time to heal. It is most likely a good sign, m'dear."

Freya exhaled slowly and began mashed herbs again. "I suppose," she said. "I just miss him, that's all. He was away for a long time and now he's back, and he still hasn't woken up, and I feel lonely without his presence."

Gaius looked at her sympathetically, setting down his tools and making his way to her across the cluttered room. He paused halfway across with an exclamation of "Merlin!" and Freya hurried to his side.

Merlin's eyes were open, blinking, and he was staring at Gaius and Freya with confusion written all over his features. He opened his mouth but no sound except a rough croak escaped. Freya hurried to fetch some water – obviously Merlin's vocal cords would be rusty after three weeks of no use.

Merlin swallowed it gratefully and tried to sit up, wincing when he put weight onto his left arm. "Ouch," he whispered, the sound grating against his throat, "what happened?"

"You got shot," Gaius informed him. Freya let out a shaky laugh and collapsed onto the bench, barely able to believe her eyes.

"Oh." Merlin thought for a moment. "How long have I been unconscious for?"

"Three weeks," Gaius informed him, moving to help him sit up against the board of the bed. "Freya's been going out of her mind," he told him quietly, so Freya didn't overhear him.

"Freya!" Merlin called, looking past Gaius. Gaius smiled and hobbled from the room, sensing the couple's want for privacy.

Freya stood up on shaky legs and somehow made her way to Merlin without collapsing on the way. "I thought you were going to die," she said brokenly, staring at her husband.

"I wouldn't die," Merlin said softly, tugging his wife closer to him on the bed, "I wouldn't leave you, so don't worry about that."

"You don't have any control over that," Freya pointed out, holding back tears.

"I do, because I love you too much to ever leave," Merlin replied, wrapping his arms around his wife. Freya mimicked his actions and kissed him on the cheek, scarcely believing that her husband was really here, alive and awake and breathing.

The door suddenly burst open and the knights piled into the room. "Oh…sorry," Arthur said sheepishly, as they noticed Freya curled up into his side.

"It's fine," Merlin reassured.

The knights beamed at him and crowded round him, offering their encouragement.

LINE BREAK

It was only later that night, when they were curled up in bed together, that Freya let her tears fall.

And Merlin supported her.

 


	7. Evening

Freya stood at the window. With one hand she toyed with a silver locket absently; it hung down low, to her stomach, and had emeralds studded around the edge. Merlin's wedding gift to her. Well, along with something else.

With a sudden viper-like quickness a hand closed over hers, immobilising any movement she had once had. Another hand - presumably belonging to the same person - stifled the scream before it came out, and pushed her head against his chest. A soft kiss was planted on her hair and Merlin murmured, "Hello, beautiful."

Freya relaxed instantly, sure in the knowledge that her captor was none other than her husband.

"Good evening," Freya replied softly, as soon as he lifted his hand. Merlin's eyes widened; was it evening already?

"Didn't know I'd been so long," Merlin whispered, "sorry."

"It's fine," Freya muttered, closing her eyes and collapsing against the security of her husband's arms.

"You okay?" Merlin asked quietly, using his free hand to stroke her hair gently. The hand clasping hers moved to circle her waist, rocking her gently.

"I'm great," Freya sighed. "You?"

"Brilliant," Merlin beamed. "But I'd be even better if..." Merlin let the sentence tail off. When Freya spun round to look at him questioningly, he grabbed her bridal style and pivoted round quickly, over and over, ignoring her delighted shrieks of protest. When he finally set her down, she had two blotches of pink colouring her cheeks and there was a certain carefreeness to her eyes. Her hair was windswept, and somewhere along the way it had lost the tight braid it had been plaited into. Now her locks were curling slightly, free and wild. She was still laughing and squealed when Merlin picked her up again, this time opting to grab her around the waist and run towards the bed.

"No!" Freya yelled when they got within a few feet of the bed, and Merlin shifted her within his arms and took up a more balanced stance. "No! No, don't throw me! Merlin!"

Merlin ignored her and swung her backwards and forwards a couple of times, getting used to the weight and the distance. "One...two...THREE!" he yelled, and released his wife. She landed on the bed with a muffled thump and soft laughter, dampened by the sheets, echoed back to Merlin.

Grinning, he followed her and took a running leap onto the bed. Chuckling, he slid down until he was on her level and kissed her cheek softly. She twisted her head to look at him, eyes full of sparkle and mouth curved into a laughing smile.

"I hate you!" she said with a mock anger, not really meaning the insult and hitting him lightly.

"Of course you do," he told her lightly, lifting one hand to stroke her hair back off her face.

Freya smiled sleepily. "I've missed you so much."

Merlin laughed. "I've only been gone for a few hours."

"I still missed you," Freya yawned.

Merlin frowned at his wife, kissing her forehead. "Why are you so tired?"

"Don't know," Freya murmured, shutting her eyes. "Just want to sleep."

"Okay," Merlin said softly, easing himself onto the bed, next to Freya. He wrapped his arms around her waist, humming quietly until he felt his wife drift off into a peaceful sleep, warm and secure in his arms.

 


	8. University

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Merlin and Freya are accepted to different universities. They either go long distance through letters or making very long drives every weekend". - shinobi-turtleducks on fanfiction.net

Merlin exhaled as he padded into his room. He slammed the door behind him, eliciting raised eyebrows from the blonde lounging on the bed, flicking through the latest issue of _Playboy_.

"Freya can't make it out this weekend," Merlin explained, catching sight of his best friend.

Arthur frowned sympathetically and chucked the magazine aside. "Don't worry about it, mate, you can always bang her some other weekend." Which was about as sentimental as Arthur got.

Merlin sighed again, tossing his jacket onto the bed. Arthur threw his hands up, still looking annoyingly comfortable. "Look, mate, I stopped looking at tits for you."

"You make me feel so loved," Merlin snorted. He began to wrestle his shirt off.

"That wasn't an invitation for you to show yours," Arthur chuckled. Merlin threw the polo-top at him, ignoring his muffled shouts of protest when it landed on his face.

Merlin strode into their shared bathroom, and just had time to hear Arthur yell, "It smells of disappointment!" before he shut the door and twisted the lock, stripping his remaining clothes.

He hopped into the shower and let the hot water run over him, warming his body. Yes, he was disappointed. He only saw Freya for a day every month now that they were attending different universities an hour away from each other, and now this month neither of them had a mutual weekend free. He missed her sincerely – it was like a hole had been punched through his chest and a chunk of his heart had been torn out.

As he adjusted the temperature of the shower, a new idea struck him. There was one thing that could relieve the ache (the physical one, at least).

LINE BREAK

When Merlin came out again, back in his jeans and with his hair in a mess of spikes, Arthur had disappeared.

He fetched a top from his neatly-arranged chest of drawers and shrugged it on, searching around the room for a note. He found nothing and decided to sit down to get on with his coursework – he had to hand in an essay in two days' time.

Merlin was almost asleep when there was a knock at his green door. He blinked stupidly, staring at the door and wondering whether he had imagined the sound.

There was another knock, this time rather more impatient, and Merlin scrambled to answer it.

It was Morgana, looking as flawless as she usually did, holding a small, plain white box. "You took your time," she said huffily, although Merlin knew her annoyance was mainly an act.

"I thought I had imagined the knock," Merlin replied, self-consciously running a hand through his hair. She always made him feel scruffy.

"This is for you," Morgana said curtly, shoving the box into his hands. "I don't know what it is, Arthur gave it to me two hours ago and told me to give it to you now." She marched off down the corridor, back to her own room.

Merlin blinked, then retreated back into his room. Nestled inside the box was a necklace: a silver chain with a blue pendant suspended from it. He recognised it instantly as the one he had been planning to give to Freya the next time she visited.

Underneath the chain was a note in Arthur's scribble – "Hope she likes it!"

Completely nonplussed, Merlin wriggled the note out, crumpled it and dropped it in the bin. He snapped the lid shut.

Just then, there was a timid knock on the door. Now utterly confused about what was going on, Merlin hurried to his door and swung it open.

Standing there was Freya. "Merlin!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around his neck. "I've missed you so much!" Before he could respond, she pressed her mouth against his firmly.

When they broke apart, Merlin asked, "You too, darling, but why are you here?" He wrapped his arms around her waist.

Freya drew back, her eyes shining. "Arthur drove over to collect me – I'll need to leave around nine tomorrow morning, but he's going to stay with Leon tonight so we can have some time together."

Merlin made a mental note to never be mean to Arthur ever again. "Come in," he said happily, remembering the present in his hands now that he was over the initial shock of seeing Freya,

Once she had shut the door, Merlin handed her the box. "Just to say I love you."

Freya opened it eagerly and gasped at its contents. "Thank you," she whispered, carefully setting it down on Merlin's desk so she could reach up and kiss him gently.

The kiss quickly escalated, transforming from something gentle to passionate, and soon Freya was leading Merlin towards the bed, their lips still attached.

Merlin unbuttoned Freya's purple blouse and threw it onto the ground, skilfully undoing her bra with one hand, something that had taken him several months to perfect.

Freya pushed Merlin down onto the bed, straddling his hips as she helped him to remove his shirt.

"Love you," Merlin said, in between pants and gasps.

"Love you too," Freya said softly, and then began to unbutton his jeans for him.

Merlin let his head fall back on his pillows. _Thank you, Arthur_.


	9. Honour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Merlin pays Elyan to make a grave marker a for Freya's lake." - ruapilot2

Merlin took in a deep, shuddering breath. The conversation he was about to have was not going to be easy but he had to have it at some point. It was the right thing to do.

"Elyan?" he asked, hovering in the doorway of the armoury. The dark-skinned man started and laughed when he saw Merlin, pressing a hand to his heart.

"Merlin!" he smiled. "You scared me half to death!"

Merlin returned the smile nervously. He began to rub at the back of his neck like he always did when he was anxious. "Can I ask you something?" he blurted.

"Of course, Merlin, you always can." Elyan set the sword he had been sharpening down on the table in front of him, seeming to sense either how serious the situation was or how worried Merlin was.

"I need a grave marker." Merlin bit his lip, struggling to repress the tears that always threatened to escape when he thought of Freya. He registered the shock on Elyan's face and hastened to add, "It doesn't have to be really fancy or anything, just something simple-"

"That's…not why I'm shocked, Merlin." Elyan shook his head in disbelief. "I didn't know you'd lost someone recently. I'm…deeply sorry."

"It wasn't recent," Merlin replied, looking down at his feet. He could see his toes twitching nervously. "I just never thought of it before."

"Gods, Merlin, I don't know what to say…I mean, of course I'll do it, but…who is it for? So I can include a name?"

"Her name is – was – Freya. She wouldn't have wanted anything special or amazing, she didn't think she was worth much, but she was." A solitary tear dripped from Merlin's face and he cursed himself for his weakness. He heard Elyan shuffle towards him and wrap an arm around his shoulders.

"The people we love are always worth the world to us," Elyan said softly. "I'll keep it simple, if that's what you want, but I'll make sure it's special."

"Thank you," Merlin whispered. "How much do you want for it?"

"Nothing. You're a friend and I'm not charging." Elyan dropped his arm and clapped Merlin on the shoulder. "I understand if you don't want to talk about her, but I'm available if you do." He hesitated. "Does anyone else know about her?"

"No. Nobody…not really." Merlin sniffed and made an effort to lift his head and smile at Elyan.

"I think you should. You and Arthur are close, even if he keeps denying it…did you know him when Freya died?"

"No, nobody can know." Merlin sighed and leant against the oaken doorframe. "It's complicated."

Elyan nodded, at a loss for words, and stepped from the armoury with a final smile and another clap to his shoulder. "I'll make it tonight – is there any type of flower you want carved on it?"

"Can you do strawberries?"

Elyan looked surprised, and confused, but his tone was even when he responded, "Of course."

LINE BREAK

Merlin was sitting on his bed, still dressed in his work clothes. Arthur, for some reason unknown to him, had released him from his duties early and he had been able to spend the afternoon practicing magic safely. His mind had been on Freya ever since the conversation with Elyan two days ago, and it had caused him to be in a deep melancholy. Maybe that was why Arthur had let him go earlier today.

Flicking through his spell-book, his eyes picked out one that seemed interesting. It gave the user the ability to control a fire that had been created by magical or non-magical means, allowing the user to amplify or reduce flames, or spread them to wherever they want. That would be useful on hunting trips.

Merlin hummed as he bookmarked the page and carried on reading. The Old Religion always made him feel more relaxed somehow; the shapes of the letters were a soothing influence, for some reason.

From outside his room and closed door, he could hear muffled voices. He assumed it was Gaius and one of his patients complaining about some ailment or another, and resumed his reading once he came to that conclusion.

There was a sharp rap at the door, making Merlin jump out of his skin and nearly off the bed. He chucked the heavy book on the floor and threw his jacket over it to disguise it. "Yes?" he questioned, sliding off the bed to hurry to the door.

"It's me, Elyan," came a voice on the other side of the door. Merlin swung the door open, anticipation flooding his body as he saw the load that Elyan was carrying: a large block of something covered with an off-white cloth.

"Come in," Merlin said, glancing past the knight as he ducked into his room, and grinning when he saw Gaius' raised eyebrows.

"Well, what do you think?" Elyan said, setting the stone down on Merlin's bed and removing the cover. Merlin closed the door behind him and bounced over to his bed, eager to see the grave marker.

It was marble, a luxurious stone, smooth and beautiful. 'Freya' was carved into it with a smooth hand, the font even and swirling. Just as Merlin had asked, a bunch of strawberries had been clearly impressed under her name and the rest of the stone was blank, apart from the smaller words at the bottom: 'In Loving Memory'.

Merlin felt tears sting at the back of his eyes again, but forced them back. "It's perfect," he said genuinely, turning to face Elyan. "It's perfect, she'd love it."

"Glad I could help a friend," Elyan said softly, admiring his own work. "Oh, Arthur saw me making this, just to let you know. I didn't say any more than I had to, I just told him it was for you and it was a loved one who had passed away a while ago, and you don't like to talk about it. He said he wouldn't ask you about it."

It made sense now – his afternoon off. "Thanks for letting me know."

"I've got to get back to training – Arthur's called an unexpected one, in five minutes, I don't want to be late." Elyan strode back towards Merlin's door.

"Elyan – thank you for this, honestly, and if there's anything I can do to repay you, I will. And would you say thank you to Arthur as well? He'll understand." Merlin smiled, looking back at the grave marker.

"I will do," Elyan smiled, and retreated from his room, closing the door softly after him.

LINE BREAK

Merlin wedged the stone into the ground by the Lake of Avalon, with a little assistance from his magic. It was a cool day, and the lake was rippling slightly with the breeze. "There you go, Freya," Merlin said, satisfied with his job. He cast a protection spell over the stone so no wear would come to it, intentional or not. "Honoured at last."

He could have sworn that the lake turned a deeper shade of blue, just for a moment, before resuming its normal shade. Merlin left to return to Camelot much happier than before. Finally, he had honoured her memory.

 


	10. Double Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "ModernMerlin double date between Gwen/Arthur and Freylin" - star-eye on fanfiction.net

Freya's heels clicked on the concrete paving, the sound eerie in the dark of the night. The cinema was a large, cream building, light spilling from the glass doors across the front of the building. Merlin couldn't help but stare at Freya when she caught the light: she was wearing a simple, plum-coloured dress that came down to her knees and a large, chunky belt. She was wearing little makeup and her skin was pale and creamy. Freya caught him admiring her and slapped him on the arm playfully. "I know I'm beautiful, but you don't have to be so obvious," she joked.

"Only showing my appreciation," Merlin retaliated, swinging open the opening door and gesturing for Freya to go through first. "Are we meeting them in the lobby or in the actual cinema?" he asked.

Freya rolled her eyes at her boyfriend's lack of organisation. "In the lobby," she answered, scanning the large space for Arthur and Gwen. "See, there they are, at that table." She pointed the couple out to Merlin, and they advanced towards their table together. Once they got closer, Gwen noticed them and stood to greet them, hugging Merlin tightly and kissing Freya on the cheek.

Arthur stayed seated, supremely unruffled by all of this, stirring his coffee. Merlin rolled his eyes; typical Arthur, pretending that nothing bothered him.

"Looking forward to the film?" Gwen asked, finishing her coffee, leaving a bright red lipstick stain on the white mug. Merlin made a non-committal grunt and Freya agreed quietly, as the group stood to enter the cinema.

LINE BREAK

Freya balanced the popcorn bucket on the armrest between her and Merlin carefully, resting it against the seats. She grinned at Merlin, pleased with herself, apparently and settled back to carry on watching the film.

Next to her, Arthur and Gwen had abandoned the film and were practically in the same seat together. Freya wondered how they were managing to breathe, and how they could kiss like that in a public place; she would be embarrassed to ever look anyone in the eye again. She took another handful of popcorn and resumed watching the film just as someone accidentally mutilated themselves horrifically.

LINE BREAK

Merlin sighed as the film ended and he stood up, his muscles complaining. One of his legs had gone to sleep and he had to steady himself against the chair.

"Good film," Freya commented, brushing herself down of any popcorn crumbs. She glanced sideways and saw that Gwen was still seated on top of Arthur. They probably hadn't even noticed that the film had finished.

Merlin poked Arthur's arm, and the two broke apart reluctantly. "Has it ended?" Arthur asked, looking surprised that time had passed.

"Yes," Freya replied, picking up her bag. "It was really good, I'd recommend you watch it next time."

Gwen looked sheepish as she stood up, but Arthur just looked as cocky as ever: some things would never change, Merlin thought. "Shall we go to a restaurant?" Merlin asked, shrugging his jacket on.

"Sure, why not?" Gwen agreed, leading the way out of the screening room.

LINE BREAK

Freya shifted in her seat. They had just ordered their food and Gwen and Arthur were bickering playfully. Merlin was laughing at their argument and Freya was half-listening, the other half of her attention focused on her hunger.

Freya started when she felt something on her knee. Looking under the table, she saw Merlin's hand resting on her leg, his fingers lifting the hem of her dress slightly. "Stop it," she hissed, keeping her voice low so Arthur and Gwen wouldn't notice.

"Don't pretend you don't like it," Merlin whispered back. Freya glowered at him, but their dispute was disrupted when Arthur asked, "Merlin, five hours is three hundred minutes, isn't it?"

"Yes," Merlin responded, and Freya wondered what they were arguing about. She inhaled sharply as Merlin's hand slipped under her dress, inching up her leg. He wasn't looked at her anymore, but a smirk had worked its way onto his face.

Freya settled back. Merlin was right, she did like it, but she would prefer if he didn't do it here, in public. Slowly, his fingers crept until they were at the base of her stomach, tickling her gently, not quite enough to make her squeal.

Freya had to endure another five minutes of the torture Merlin was supplying before the food arrived and he reluctantly removed his hand. "Thank you," he said to the waitress, handing Freya's plate to her. He raised his eyebrows at her and smiled suggestively.

"Shut up," she muttered, even though he hadn't said anything.

LINE BREAK

Merlin kissed Freya ferociously. She was leaning against their front door, and as Merlin licked along her lower lip, he slotted the key into the door and they stumbled into the house. Merlin pushed Freya against the wall as he kicked the door shut behind them both, their lips still attached. Freya yanked his jacket off him and chucked it onto the floor, kicking her heels off.

Merlin's hands moved round to her back and unzipped her dress, stepping back to allow it to drop and pool around her ankles. They broke apart for a minute, catching their breath. Merlin pulled off his shirt and tossed it behind him, letting Freya undo the buttons on his jeans.

"Upstairs?" Freya asked breathlessly.

"Upstairs," Merlin agreed.

 


	11. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "what would happen if Merlin suffered from nightmares (or Freya or both or whatever)?" - MamzelleHenry on fanfiction.net

Merlin woke to an empty bed, the covers thrown back but the sheets still warm. He wondered for a second what had woken him up, and then the sound of Freya vomiting became audible. Merlin winced and hopped out of bed, grabbing a linen blanket as he headed towards the ante-chamber.

He and Freya had been married for two years now, just over, and ever since they had shared a bed, this had happened every night. Freya was plagued with memories: of when her village was ransacked and her family killed; when she was assaulted by the man who she accidentally killed; when she used to turn into a Bastet every night. She was haunted by how many lives she had taken, and what had been done to her. They visited her at night, in the form of night terrors.

They were so awful that Freya would wake in the early hours of the morning and she would expel whatever she had eaten the previous day. Merlin would often wake either during or after this act, and find Freya on her knees in their ante-chamber, clutching a stinking bucket, weeping.

This occasion was no different. Merlin hurried into the dimly-lit room and whispered an incantation to brighten the room softly. His wife was kneeling over a wooden bucket, her shoulders heaving as she choked up bile. Merlin wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and smoothed her hair back from her face, whispering sweet, shushing sounds to calm her down.

It took another few minutes before Freya collapsed into his arms, sobbing and coughing. Merlin comforted her, rubbing her arms. He hated that he could do nothing to help his wife when she was like this: all he could do was clean her face and rub her back and lull her back to sleep.

As he always did, he conjured a square, damp cloth and wiped her mouth with it gently, feeling Freya relax at the cool water on her burning skin. When he was satisfied that her face was clean, he helped her to stand.

Her white nightdress had become crumpled and left her lower legs bare, and Merlin could see that even though she was scorching, the blood had drained away from her skin and left her pale. Helping her to walk across the wooden floorboards back to their bed, Merlin realised that she was drenched in sweat and once they reached their four-poster bed, Freya sat down on the edge, looking exhausted.

Merlin crouched down in front of her, rubbing her legs soothingly. "It's not real anymore," he comforted in a soft voice. "It's not real. You're here, with me, and you're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you. Nothing. Not while I'm here."

Freya was gasping in deep, shuddering breaths; Merlin rose and sat beside her on the mattress, rubbing her back through her nightdress. "Breathe in slowly, in, in, that's it, nice and deep, and let it out again…and in again…and out…" Merlin coaxed his wife, regulating her breathing until he was satisfied that she was starting to relax.

Carefully, Merlin tugged her nightdress off, over her head and arms, and threw it across to the other side of the room. He fetched a new one from the mahogany wardrobe and helped Freya to pull it on, the cool fabric a relief to her.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," Freya said suddenly, rubbing the hem of her nightgown between her thumb and forefinger. "I don't like the nightmares."

"I know you don't," Merlin replied, smoothing her hair. "But you need to have sleep, love, you won't be able to stay awake tomorrow if you don't get enough sleep tonight."

"I can try," Freya pointed out weakly.

"You can try, but you won't win." Merlin sighed: this was the battle they fought every night, and he knew how it would turn out.

Freya nodded slowly. "Will you be here?"

"I'm always here," Merlin murmured. "Let's go to sleep, shall we?"

Freya nodded again, and allowed Merlin to guide her back into bed and twitch the covers up to her chest. He climbed in beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist. Freya nuzzled her face into his neck and chest, breathing in his scent. "You're safe," Merlin reassured her. "Safe, completely safe."

"Safe," Freya repeated, her voice slightly muffled by his chest. "Safe."

"Safe."

 


	12. Children

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Freya tries to convince Merlin to have children in the future, (with some arguments and doing extra sweet) but Merlin has his doubts. At the end merlin tells Arthur he's going to have kids, and Arthur has tou laugh, because Merlin is too easy to manipulate by a girl" - Elise.v on fanfiction.net

_Day 1_

Freya awoke earlier than usual. She wondered why, then realised that her husband was lying staring at the ceiling, humming under his breath. The light of the dawn must have woken him; they had forgotten to draw the curtains last night and while Freya wasn't sensitive to the light, Merlin was. Freya shifted slightly and Merlin glanced down at her, and realised that she was awake. "Morning," he said quietly, pulling her towards him gently to kiss her cheek.

"We should try for a child soon," Freya murmured into Merlin's ear, by way of greeting.

"What?" Merlin gaped at his wife.

"I think we should have a child." Freya threaded her hand through Merlin's messy hair.

"Why? We're perfectly fine as we are," Merlin protested, sitting up in bed. Freya followed suit, throwing her legs over Merlin's lap.

"I know, but I've always wanted to have children," Freya implored, widening her eyes and blinking innocently. "You said you wanted them too…"

"Well, yes, but not now!" Merlin spluttered. They couldn't have kids!

"Why not? We've been married for three years now and we'd both be great parents." Freya toyed with her husband's hand, biting her lip and fiddling with her hair. Unfortunately for her, Merlin wasn't falling for her usual tricks at that moment.

"I'm sorry, Freya, but no," Merlin answered firmly, sliding from bed and grabbing some clothes from his wardrobe. "Not yet." He strode behind the screen to change.

Freya settled back against the headboard. They were having children soon, whether Merlin liked it or not.

LINE BREAK

"She wants to have kids now!" Merlin squeaked.

Arthur nodded sympathetically. "You don't want to have them?"

"Not yet! Children are weird, they're like little frogs, bouncing around everywhere and making annoying noises!"

"Did you just compare children to frogs?" Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Merlin, you need to have a proper talk with her."

Merlin sighed and paced around Arthur's room. "I would, but she'll just use her feminine wiles and before you know it, she'll be pregnant."

"Ignore her feminine wiles, then. Resist the urge!" Arthur slammed his fist on the table for emphasis.

"Right!" Merlin marched to the door, then paused. "I can't, Arthur," he whined.

Arthur groaned.

LINE BREAK

"Freya," Merlin declared, as he entered their chambers. "We need to-" His voice trailed off as he noticed his wife, curled up into a ball, on the floor. "Freya, what's wrong?" He hurried to her side and rubbed her back.

"I want children!" Freya sobbed, without looking at Merlin. Merlin felt a spark of panic ignite in his chest.

"I know, and that's what we need to talk about." Freya sobbed harder. "I do want children," Merlin said desperately. What was he meant to say? "Just not right now." He glanced at his wife's face, which was actually surprisingly dry considering the volume of her sobs.

"Wait," he said suspiciously. Freya wasn't above using any tactic to get what she wanted, which included- "Stop the fake crying, Freya, it's not working." The sobs stopped immediately and Freya looked up and scowled.

"It nearly was!" she glowered, her jawline set and determined. "Fine, let's talk."

Merlin cleared his throat. "I want children in the future. Just not the near future."

"Well, I do." Freya stared at her husband resolutely.

"I don't think we're capable of raising children right now!" Merlin countered, his voice rising slightly.

"We are, Merlin, you just won't admit it!" Freya shouted, scrambling to her feet.

"Freya-"

"No, don't bother! You don't want to have to deal with a child right now, not because you can't cope, or I can't cope, you just don't want the hassle!" Freya's cheeks were flushed bright red and there was a brightness in her eyes that Merlin knew from experience was pure anger.

Merlin ran a hand through his hair, turning away from his wife. He heard Freya snarl in frustration behind him and the door slammed. _Nice one, Merlin._

LINE BREAK

_Day 2_

Merlin woke up to find Freya in his bed. He sighed in relief – he had finally admitted defeat in the early hours of the morning and gone to sleep without Freya, although he had wanted to stay awake until he knew she had returned safely.

She looked peaceful and Merlin cautiously shifted towards her, wrapping his arms around her torso. She woke with a start. "Sorry," Merlin whispered immediately, and Freya relaxed her shoulders.

"Me too," she muttered.

LINE BREAK

_Day 6_

Neither of them had broached the topic of children since their mutual apology. Freya was waiting for the right moment to strike; Merlin was merely relieved that their argument had been resolved.

Merlin traipsed into his chambers after a long, tiring meeting with the council. To be honest, all he wanted at that moment was a bath and to sleep. He was greeted with a bath and a beaming Freya. "I thought you might want a bath," Freya smiled, greeting her husband with a hug.

"Thank you," Merlin sighed gratefully, stripping himself of his top and heading towards the steaming bath. Freya smirked to herself: her plan was working.

LINE BREAK

Merlin was about to fall asleep, pleasantly relaxed by the bath, when Freya joined him in bed. She curled up into his side, slipping her leg between his and nuzzling into his neck.

"Love you," she muttered.

"Love you too," Merlin replied.

"I still want children."

LINE BREAK

_Day 8_

"Lunch!" Freya said happily, bouncing into their room with two plates, clutched precariously in one hand, while she held a jug of water with the other one. She set the three items down on the table and filled up the two goblets that were a permanent presence in their room. "Merlin?" Her husband was staring out of the window.

"Let's have kids," he said suddenly. Freya dropped the jug.

"Really?" she asked, not quite believing him.

"Really," Merlin confirmed, hurrying over to his wife. "Children are exactly what I want!"

"Are you feeling alright?" Freya watched her husband warily. Maybe he was coming down with a fever.

"I feel fine. I'm going to go and tell Arthur we're having children!" Merlin sprinted out of the room and down the corridor, leaving Freya alone with their lunches, wondering why Arthur had anything to do with it.

LINE BREAK

"We're having children!" Merlin beamed. Arthur, with a raspberry halfway to his mouth, blinked.

"Children? I thought you didn't want them yet."

"I do now," Merlin announced proudly, as if it was his original idea.

"Great," Arthur replied, stifling a laugh. "Go and talk about it with Freya – she's probably as shocked as I am."

Merlin nodded and sprinted back out of the room, and Arthur let himself laugh loudly. He wondered which feminine wiles Freya had used – Merlin was far too easy to manipulate.

 


	13. Maid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Write about Freya being a servant in another kingdom after coming back from the dead and coming back to Camelot with her Mistress and seeing Merlin again." - stikenotes on fanfiction.net

Merlin exhaled grumpily as he surveyed the courtyard. All of the dignitaries had gathered outside on the cobbled ground, waiting for the arrival of Lady Charlotte.

They had been waiting patiently – or impatiently, in Merlin's case – for two hours now. The sun was high in the sky now and Merlin could feel beads of hot sweat cascading from his neck down his back. He, of course, had been running around frantically all morning, trying to organise this and that. He was exhausted and being forced to stand stationary was not helping.

He watched as Gwen whispered something to Arthur, and as often happened, he felt a sudden, knife-sharp pang of loneliness, as if a dagger had been pushed into his gut. He squashed the pain away and focused on standing up as straight as his spine would allow – he had been scolded by Arthur for not having a good posture and letting them down the last time a noble had visited.

Finally, the familiar beat of hooves echoed from around the other side of the castle's tall walls. Everyone straightened immediately, ladies adjusting their hair and dresses, the men rearranging their clocks or the way they held their hands.

Two horses, drawing a carriage behind them, trotted into the courtyard. They were both sleek and ebony, elegant and proud creatures. Steering them was a squat, pot-bellied man with a square head and peculiarly small eyes. He was crouched upon a small ledge that jutted out of the carriage.

The carriage itself was blue and purple; Merlin vaguely remembered that those were the royal colours of wherever Lady Charlotte came from. It did look nice, Merlin admitted to himself grudgingly: he'd decided, as soon as they were half an hour late, that he was going to be hostile towards anything and everything to do with that kingdom.

The horses drew to a halt, and the carriage door swung open. A maid hurried out after it, scrabbling to hold it open for her mistress. She was too far away for Merlin to see properly (he swore that his eyesight was worsening with each passing day), but he still watched the scene eagerly. It was much more entertaining than watching the clouds, which he had been doing previously.

The Lady Charlotte stepped from her carriage, even though she was the same distance away from Merlin as the maid, she was a lot more difficult to miss. Her hair was so brightly blond that it was practically white; when the sun caught it, it was blinding. _This is doing nothing for my eyes_ , Merlin thought dismally.

She was very skinny, but seemed to have tried to make herself more voluptuous with fake padding. Merlin wondered whether it was just him who had noticed, or if it was as blatantly obvious to everyone else.

She approached Arthur, wobbling dangerously. Her dress matched her eyes, a pale blue, with gold embroidery on the hem. It was tight and short, ending just below her knees. Merlin got the impression that she was trying too hard to impress them, and judging by the glimpse he got of Arthurs face, he wasn't the only one.

Arthur greeted her politely, as did Gwen. Lady Charlotte's voice, when she responded, was high-pitched and shrill, more like the wail of a banshee than anything else. They carried on the conversation for a few more minutes, during which time Merlin felt sure both his ears had exploded.

"Merlin!" Arthur finally said, turning to his manservant. "Fetch Lady Charlotte's bags, will you? And take them to her room."

"Certainly, sire," Merlin muttered. Their eyes met for a brief moment and Merlin had to press his lips together to prevent his laughter from spilling out. Arthur's eyes were screaming, "Help me," and he looked haunted. "She's not that bad," Merlin mumbled under his breath as he passed him. Although, truth be told, he wasn't looking forward to another whole week of Lady Charlotte.

"What shall I take?" Merlin asked cheerfully when he reached the maid he saw before. She was crouched down, with her back facing him. She was wearing a long, dark purple dress and her hair was a dark brown, braided down her back, with lighter streaks of brown running through it. Instead of answering, she stood up, clutching a small leather case in her hands.

"Merlin?" Her voice was familiar, but Merlin couldn't quite place it, not without seeing her properly.

"Yes." He was slightly confused as to how she knew his name. Maybe they had met before? Or maybe she'd heard Arthur call him?

The maid turned around, biting her lip in an awkward grin. "Hello."

Merlin blinked a few times. His eyesight really must be deteriorating. Freya was in the Lake of Avalon, not standing in front of him.

"It is me," the maybe-Freya added hastily, as if she sensed exactly what was going through his head.

"How?" Merlin asked weakly. He felt even wearier than before, suddenly.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Freya replied softly. "I woke up one day in a strange place, and managed to get a job working for Lady Charlotte." Freya pulled a face, wrinkling her nose. "She's awful, isn't she?"

Merlin laughed and nodded. He still felt a little odd about this, but also overwhelmingly joyful that Freya had returned. "Freya!" he cried, sweeping her up into a tight hug.

"Merlin!" she mimicked, mocking or not Merlin couldn't tell, and embraced him with equal force. Suddenly conscious that they were in a crowded courtyard, Merlin broke apart, whispering, "Let's do this in private." Freya nodded her agreement.

Merlin glanced around quickly to check whether anyone had been watching. It was unlikely: most, if not all, would be focused on the monarchy, not two servants. Or so Merlin hoped.

Lady Charlotte was still squeaking away to Arthur, who was enduring the torture surprisingly well, although Merlin thought he could see him grimace with every particularly high-pitched note. Next to the stairs that led to the main entrance, Arthur's most trusted knights were standing.

Gwaine caught Merlin's eye and winked. The smug smirk plastered across his face told Merlin that he had seen their hug, and he was going to be questioned later.

"How many bags are there?" Merlin pushed all other thoughts from his mind and concentrated on the task at hand.

Freya sighed. "Too many." She guided Merlin round to the back of the carriage, and unfastened a leather strap. A flap of wood lifted up, and inside was a fairly large, hollow space, filled with what Merlin estimated to be around eighteen or twenty cases.

"Great," Merlin said grumpily. Freya snorted with laughter at his tone and together they removed the bags from the space, and began to pile them in stacks of three or four. Merlin counted as they went along – there were actually twenty-two cases. "How many bags does one person need?" Merlin complained. He was becoming increasingly warmer and warmer as the job wore on.

"This many, apparently," Freya replied, slightly out of breath. Her cheeks had grown very red from the exertion and, as Merlin looked at her, she couldn't help but think how attractive she managed to appear even when this flustered.

His thoughts were shattered into oblivion when she asked, "Who's that approaching?"

Merlin glanced up, panting, and groaned. Gwaine was sauntering towards them, a smirk still evident. Behind him, Leon and Percival exchanged glances; Leon shrugged; and then they both trudged after Gwaine.

"Do you not like him?" Freya caught sight of the others now trailing behind Gwaine and corrected herself, "Them?"

"No, it's not that," Merlin responded through gritted teeth, running a hand through his hair. "It's just…you'll see."

"Need some help?" Gwaine asked, grinning at Freya.

"That'd be really great," Freya replied appreciatively, shooting a sidelong glance at Merlin suspiciously.

"Happy to," Gwaine said, "for a beautiful lady such as yourself." Merlin shot him a glance that clearly said _say no more or you will be slaughtered in your bed tonight_ , but Gwaine never let such trivial things hinder her.

Percival gathered eight suitcases and stored them in his muscular arms; he stood three heads over Freya and she gazed up at him in awe. He looked wary; Merlin couldn't tell whether he was fazed by Freya's staring (although this was doubtful) or whether it was because he feared Gwaine's intentions (more likely).

"How do you and Merlin know each other?" Gwaine questioned, picking up another four of the leather cases. Leon took another four, looking as cautious as Percival.

Freya hesitated, bending down to collect her two cases to buy herself some time. Merlin took pity on her and answered, "WE knew each other four or five years ago." He picked up the last four suitcases and juggled with them, trying to arrange them comfortably in his arms.

This time it was Freya who chipped in. "The circumstances meant I had to move away and we've only seen each other once since that, about three years ago."

Leon asked, "So did you know you'd be seeing each other today?" The group began to head towards the castle.

"I didn't," Merlin answered.

"I did," Freya said, keeping up with them well, considering her long dress and heels. "I've only worked for Lady Charlotte for half a year, so I've never had a chance to tell Merlin."

"So are you two close friends or…?" Gwaine pressed, the suffix 'something more' just as obvious as if Gwaine had said it. Percival rolled his eyes disapprovingly.

Luckily for both Freya and Merlin, they were saved having to answer when Leon cut in. "I'm Sir Leon. Who are you?"

"Freya. It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Leon."

Leon continued, "This is Sir Gwaine," he indicated the knight. "And Sir Percival. But we don't bother with the 'sir's with friends, and if you're Merlin's friend, then you're our friend too.

"Thank you," Freya beamed genuinely. Her face had lit up. Merlin supposed that she'd never had a feeling of love or security ever since she was brought back to life.

LINE BREAK

Percival groaned as Gwaine spouted yet another filthy story from his mouth. "I don't want to hear this," he said truthfully. Merlin was his friend, and even though he hadn't properly met Freya yet, he felt that he was going to enjoy her company, and he didn't wish to hear Gwaine's vile ponderings upon their relationships.

Gwaine laughed. He enjoyed speaking to Percival: he was so innocent. He was about to start on another story when he caught sight of something that made him stop dead. He hit Percival on the chest lightly, to attract his attention and indicated the alcove that they were approaching. Percival's jaw practically hit the floor.

"Told you," Gwaine whispered.

LINE BREAK

Freya could feel the rough wall of the alcove against her back as Merlin pushed her against it insistently. "Careful," she breathed, worried about anyone catching sight of them.

"Don't worry," Merlin muttered, in between the small nips and sucks on her neck. "Nobody comes down here."

"Mm-kay," Freya said contently, winding her hands into Merlin's hair and letting him kiss at her neck and along her jawline. She had missed Merlin, in more ways than one, and she was more than happy for this to happen. They'd never had a chance for something like this before, they were too busy trying to escape.

Freya relaxed as Merlin's lips sought hers again, giving herself into the pleasure of Merlin. She kissed back willingly, clutching at his jacket eagerly. Unknown to both of them, they now had two viewers, one of whom was triumphantly smirking at his friend.

 


	14. Captured

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What would happen if Morgana captured Freya to hurt Merlin?" - MamzelleHermy

The entire court was in uproar. Freya had been snatched from her bed in the middle of the night, while Merlin was in a council meeting. All of the windows were closed and there was no sign of a struggle, but Merlin maintained that Freya would have fought back at whoever had captured her. The whole thing was peculiar.

Arthur had scoured their chambers himself, going over everything, but had found nothing. Merlin was distraught, sick with worry and concern for his wife. Arthur had tried to comfort Merlin, but he found that he was not able to be cheered up, miserable with the loss.

They had literally no clue where Freya could be, and Arthur finally conceded at the end of the day that the chances of finding her again were unlikely. However, that wasn't going to stop him from trying.

So, later that night, Arthur snuck down to Gaius's chambers, keen to avoid any guards. What he was doing was not illegal or restricted in anyway (at least, not the travelling to Gaius part), but it would be easier if he didn't have to answer any questions.

He hoped Gaius would still be awake: he hated waking the elderly man but he did need him urgently. To his relief, when he reached the small quarters, light was pouring from under the door, so he knocked quietly and when he received confirmation, pushed it open.

Gaius smiled kindly, albeit tiredly, and asked, "What do you want, sire? I've just had Merlin in here for a sleeping draught."

"Is this really distressing him?" Arthur asked softly, closing the door behind him. He was about to ask a favour of Gaius that he didn't want to be overheard.

"Yes, sire," Gaius replied, his face downturned with upset for his ex-ward. "He will not sleep properly, nor indeed be the same way again, unless Freya is returned safe and without harm."

Arthur hesitated. He still wasn't sure the full story of Merlin and Freya, but he knew for certain that Merlin loved Freya more than anything. "Is there anything you can do to find out where Freya is located?"

Gaius raised an infamous eyebrow. "In what way, sire?" he questioned cautiously.

"Magic," Arthur confirmed, in a low whisper. "Is there any incantation which allows you to track someone?"

Gaius regarded the king heavily for a few seconds. "I have already been trying, sire," he said solemnly. "It is a difficult spell and so far I have only managed to summon a faint trace."

"But there's still a trace?" Arthur asked eagerly.

Gaius eased himself down into a chair, wincing when his joints protested. "It appears to go from Freya and Merlin's chambers, through the castle, and then a little way into the woods just outside the lower town."

"She was taken through the castle?" Arthur repeated disbelievingly. "Why didn't we hear anything?"

Gaius considered for a minute before replying, "I believe that Freya must have been drugged in some way; magic was possibly involved."

Arthur exhaled slowly. "So she's just in the woods? Not more than a mile away?" he guessed, and Gaius confirmed his suspicions with a nod.

"I am just concerned that there may be some sort of trap waiting for you."

"I will go and wake the knights," Arthur said hastily. "We must reach her soon, trap or no."

LINE BREAK

It took them under half an hour to find Freya: luckily for them, she was in the first area they searched. There was little light, only a small amount of moonlight squeezing through the overhanging canopy of leaves. They trod cautiously, wary of any traps, but when they finally reached the small, curled up figure of Freya, they found her unconscious but with no signs of injury.

Arthur lifted her up gently and mounted his horse again, keeping Freya secure against him on their ride back.

LINE BREAK

The dawn had just broken when Merlin awoke, and he stumbled down to Gaius. His old guardian was all he wanted to be with right now. To his surprise, the door was open slightly, so he slipped inside with knocking.

Gaius was bent over the bed reserved for patients, shuffling around busily, muttering to himself. For a moment, Merlin's heart leapt with the thought that maybe it was Freya in the bed, found. He scolded himself: he was only going to get his hopes dashed.

"Gaius?" he asked quietly.

The aged physician turned around, a grin on his face, and hurried to the door where Merlin was still stood. "They found her!" he exclaimed, leading Merlin over to the bed.

Merlin scarcely believed what he was being told. He stared down over the bed, into the face of Freya. "Is she asleep?" he asked.

"Unconscious," Gaius corrected. "I'm not sure how exactly, but she has no injuries, so I'm assuming magic is the cause."

Merlin nodded. He was still concerned about the state of Freya's consciousness, but this was an improvement on not knowing where Freya was.

LINE BREAK

It had been five days since Freya had been recovered, but she still hadn't woken up. Gaius had allowed her to be moved to her usual bed, and Merlin was spending all of his time with her, watching her for any sign of her waking up. He had barely slept.

Finally, on the fifth day, Freya's eyelid flickered open. Merlin thought he was hallucinating at first, but then when she narrowed her eyes and asked, "Merlin?" uncertainly, he smiled with cracked lips and sat down next to her on the bed.

"Hello again," he said gently, stroking her hair. "You were knocked out for five days." He decided to tell her the basics now and then explain the more detailed version later. "Do you remember anything?"

Freya frowned. "No," she whispered. "Nothing." She coughed, her throat obviously dry. Merlin grabbed a goblet of water from the table and helped Freya to sit up and swallow some of it.

"That's fine," Merlin reassured. "We think you were probably asleep when you were knocked out, so it's fine that you don't remember anything."

"Morgana," Freya said, "it was Morgana. I remember her voice."

Merlin froze. "What did Morgana want with you?"

"To hurt you," Freya whispered. "I don't know why."

"She didn't hurt me as much as she hurt you," Merlin pointed out.

Freya shook her head and cupped her husband's cheek in her hand. "You have large bags underneath your eyes, you're paler than usual, you've lost quite a bit of weight, your lips are cracked, your eyes are swollen…she's done a lot more damage to you than she has to me."

 


	15. Funeral Arrangements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Leon, Arthur, and Elyan simply wanted their body returned to their families who would arrange things from there. Lance didn't have a family so he simply wanted a decent burial. Percy and Gawain had said much the same thing, though Gawain had recommended a few locations, taverns, where they might put his grave and Percy wished to be buried alongside the family he had lost to the immortal army. It was Merlin's answer which had come as a surprise. When asked he insisted quite adamantly that his remains should not be brought to his mother. Instead he asked that she informed of his passing after his body was burned on a lake just outside of Camelot." - ruapilot2

Arthur supposed it was a bit of a peculiar conversation to be having, but it was enjoyable, nevertheless. They had been out on patrols many times now, and had exhausted most topics of conversation, but considering the nature of being a knight, it was probably a surprise this subject had never come up before.

It had been, predictably, Gwaine who brought up the matter. Percival had accused him of spending all of his time at the tavern, and Gwaine's response had been: "Indeed, even when I'm dead, I shall lie next to a tavern." He had followed his comment up with a wolfish grin and a swig of his mead, earning himself several eye-rolls and groans.

"You can't seriously want to be buried by a tavern," Leon countered. "That's ridiculous."

Gwaine looked slightly indignant that his wish was the source of mockery from the others. "Nothing wrong with it," he proclaimed. "In fact, I wish to be laid to rest outside the tavern where I first met Merlin and Arthur."

Arthur flopped down next to the rest of the knights in front of the fire that Merlin was tending to. He had volunteered to water the horses himself, and had arrived just in time to hear Gwaine's request. "Why?" he queried.

"I have good memories there," Gwaine replied, his pleasant Irish brogue ringing clear on the still night. "It was meeting you two which changed my life for the better."

Arthur felt unusually pleased by that comment, and not because it was a compliment and made him look good, because it genuinely meant something to him that he had helped Gwaine.

"What about you then, sire?" Leon asked, who was propped up against a log, his boots drying next to the fire.

Arthur considered for a moment. "I would like to be returned to Gwen," he eventually decided. "And then she could choose what would be the best thing for her to arrange, whatever was easiest for her to witness. If I'm dead, I won't mind what's happening, as long as Gwen's dealing with it."

Leon nodded. "I think I would like the same," he agreed. "Not to be returned to Guinevere, obviously, but to my own sister. She could then decide what to do with my body."

"I would like to be returned to Gwen also," Elyan said suddenly. "Much the same as you, Arthur."

Arthur nodded: this was interesting, he had never known these sort of things about his knights, and he might never have known. The terrible 'what if's entered his mind, and he considered what would have happened if one of them was killed and he did not know what they wanted. "Lancelot?" he asked, who was helping Merlin keep the fire alive in the cold air. "What about you?"

Lancelot sat back on his heels, but kept his eyes downcast. "Well, I have no family." He paused. The others watched him silently as he pondered over the matter. "I think I should like a decent burial, that's all, with all those who knew me well present." Nobody missed the small touch that Merlin gave him, just a simple tap on his wrist, a gesture of comfort.

"Anyway," Lancelot said, eager to detract the attention from himself. "Percival, what do you want?"

Percival was watching the flames sway in the breeze like he was in a trance, and he didn't stop when he answered. "My family all burned to death," he started. He cleared his throat hastily. "They were retrieved when the blaze died down, and then buried just outside our village. I want to be buried with them."

Merlin stopped prodding at the fire. None of them had ever heard the story of Percival's family before; they all knew the basics but not what had truly happened. The others had respectfully bowed their heads and averted their eyes from Percival for privacy, and Merlin was as noiseless as possible as he retrieved the cauldron he used for making stew.

A few minutes passed before they all struck up a conversation again, and this time all were cheerful. Soon, of course, the conversation was focused on mocking Merlin for the quality of his stew (which, Merlin pointed out to them, they hadn't eaten yet, so maybe this one was different) and about how Merlin liked to play hide-and-seek with bandits rather than fighting them.

That reminded Arthur again of death, and he suddenly remembered that none of them had asked Merlin for his burial requests. Most servants were not given anything spectacular: obviously, their families could afford little, and many did not even have any family near them. Usually the other servants were given the evening off and buried whoever it was themselves, and then held a private mourning ceremony for their friend.

Merlin was different though, Arthur thought, and he wanted to respect whatever Merlin wanted if it ever came down to it. Arthur sincerely hoped it wouldn't, but, just in case –

"What do you want, Merlin?"

Merlin paused, half crouching, half standing, evidently about to whack Gwaine with the mammoth stick in his hand. "What?" he asked, in obvious surprise.

"For burial," Arthur said quietly, and all of the other knights turned silent as well, probably wondering why Merlin hadn't been involved in their conversation before.

Merlin sat back down and began drawing random lines in the ground with the stick. "Well, I'd like my mother to be informed of my death, obviously."

Arthur's brow creased in surprise; he thought that Merlin's request would be to be returned to his mother and let her arrange his burial. "Are you sure?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes," Merlin said unwaveringly. "There is a lake just outside of Camelot, called the Lake of Avalon. I don't know if you've ever been there."

Arthur shook his head, and then glanced at his knights. They all looked as perplexed as Arthur felt and probably did look as well. "A lake? What do you want us to do there?"

Merlin rolled his eyes, "If you didn't keep interrupting me, you'd find out." Arthur settled back, suitably chastised. "I want to be placed on a boat and set on fire, and then push me out to the middle while I'm burning."

"Why?" Arthur asked, confused. Merlin had always been protective over his mother, and had cared for her more than anything.

Merlin dropped his head again and scratched the stick into the ground again. "I knew a girl called Freya once," he began, and Gwaine's eyebrows skyrocketed. "She died, and I took her to the Lake Avalon so that could be her last view, because she loved lakes, and mountains. There are a lot of mountains on the other side of the lake." Merlin cleared his throat much like Percival had done. "She died, and I placed her in a boat and burned her, and I let her drift out into the middle of the lake. I'd like to be with her."

Merlin could tell that all eyes were on him, so he stood and announced, "Stew's ready, I'll get the plates." He walked to his horse briskly and pulled the plates from his saddlebag, and then when he heard the urgent whispering behind him, he finally let the tears fall.


	16. Cat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Gwen notices that Merlin acts strangely around cats. She thinks he simply dislikes them or is allergic, until the day he shows up at her door carrying a little black kitten. He tries to convince her to take the cat in and has to explain that he won't do so himself because cats remind him of Freya." - ruapilot2

The first time Gwen had noticed Merlin's aversion to cats, she had thought it most peculiar. He had to have been in Camelot for a little over three years at that stage, but what Gwen found peculiar was not that he reacted so violently – he, upon catching a glimpse of the arthritic, starved creature, had skidded backwards and then rushed away as fast as he could with a load of Arthur's laundry, while she decided to go hunting in the kitchen to see if there were any scraps of meat to fatten up the old cat – but more that he had always loved cats up until then.

It kept on happening – every time Merlin saw a cat, no matter its size, colour or any other characteristic, he would turn on his heel and flee. Once, upon encountering a sleek, pretty black cat, Gwen had sworn Merlin had tears in his eyes. Then again, the cat had been injured (most likely by another cat) and had a deep gash that ran from her shoulder to her tail – maybe Merlin was simply upset by the sight of such an injury. Somehow it was more than that, though – Gwen knew it was. She had no real evidence to say that her suspicions were true, apart from that she had been Merlin's close friend for a good few years now, and she knew him well enough.

Gwen had her suspicions confirmed one Thursday evening. She had only gotten back to her home about an hour before, and the cold winter sun had almost sunk below the forests in the distance. She had fashioned herself a meal from the bread she had purchased at the market, along with the pork that was leftover from the kitchens today. Just as she was drying her cutlery over the bucket she used for washing up, there came a sharp, urgent rapping at the door.

Frowning, she laid down her knife and threw her frayed towel onto her table. She rarely had visitors, much less at this time of night. Her blood began to sprint around her body even as it grew cold, her heart thudding. The last time she had received a late-night visitor, it had not worked in her favour.

There was another knocking, which was a good sign, Gwen supposed. People who intended to slaughter you usually didn't bother with knocking; they skipped such pleasantries in favour of knocking down your door and slicing open your throat, usually. Gwen headed towards her door, half of her wishing that she hadn't abandoned her knife by her bucket, the other (more logical) half of her telling her to stop worrying. She might have left a shawl at the castle, and another maid was stopping by to return it on the way back to her own house, for example, it told her.

Gwen pulled the door open before she could change her mind. The light was dim and she had to squint, cursing her stupidity for not bringing with her a candle. However, when her mysterious visitor spoke, she recognised him in an instant. "Sorry Gwen, but I don't know who else to go to," he pleaded desperately.

Gwen stepped back to allow Merlin room to enter her house. She shut the door after him and joined him at her modest table. He must have been freezing; he wasn't wearing his customary neckerchief, or his jacket. Instead, he was clutching both of them in his arms. Curled up on top of his neckerchief was a beautiful kitten, with oval brown eyes and long, thin slits for pupils.

She regarded Gwen for a few seconds, her dainty head cocked to one side, before resuming her grooming. Her fur was a mismatch of black, brown, white and golden, and she looked very young, her elegant tail coiled by her side.

"She was wandering round the castle and nobody knew who she was or where she came from," Merlin explained, carefully depositing the kitten (still seated on his jacket) onto her table. "I know you've taken care of them in the past, so…" He shrugged as his sentence tailed off, looking at her pleadingly.

Gwen sighed. A kitten this young could potentially be problematic for her, if she tried to give it the right care whilst keeping to her working schedule. She couldn't turn it down, though…"Of course I will… but only if you tell me why you dislike cats so much," she bargained.

Merlin sighed. "Long story short, I knew someone who loved cats, she died, and cats turned slightly bitter for me." He decided that lying slightly would be better than revealing he once knew a cursed druid girl who he loved dearly.

"More information than that," Gwen said, not satisfied with his answer. She knew when her friend was lying. "I won't tell anyone what you tell me, if that's what you're worried about."

Merlin's cobalt eyes snapped up to meet hers. "Even if it breaks the law?" Their eyes stared into each other for a few seconds.

"I will tell nobody."

Merlin inhaled deeply. He still didn't want to go into detail, but Gwen deserved at least some of the truth. "There was a girl named Freya," he began softly. "I met her and instantly fell in love with her. She was beautiful but very traumatized. I tried to help her…but at night, she turned into a great, winged black cat and couldn't stop herself from killing." He saw recognition dawn in Gwen's eyes. He sucked in another breath and continued. "The rest you know really, Arthur killed her in cat form."

"What did you do with her body?" Gwen asked softly. She remembered the creature now, remembered Merlin running after it, remembered keeping that a secret to protect her friend.

"I took her to a lake," Merlin replied. There were tears swimming in his eyes. "There were mountains there…I placed her in a boat and burnt her where she wanted to be."

He stood up abruptly. "Sorry, I'll go now." He walked to the door stiffly and exited her small house. Gwen sighed and looked at the kitten, snoozing in Merlin's neckerchief.

A few miles away from Camelot, a still lake stirred with the words _I love you_.


	17. Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 17 – Something Lost
> 
> Warning/s: A bit of torture, nothing too graphic.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I don't know how closely I followed the prompt here; I definitely followed it but I'm not sure if this is what ruapilot02 had in mind! Regardless, I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> And the hiatus is finally over! I will be updating fairly regularly now, and I have loads more chapters written already, so I won't be running out any time soon! I thank you all for your support and I hope sincerely that you enjoy the up and coming chapters :D
> 
> Also, a massive thanks to my amazing beta, Dark Raven Wrote, who made some amazing changes to this. Go check her out after you've read this!
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot2: "Morgana finds "something Merlin lost", Freya, and decides to use her against him."

Freya awoke in a dark, dank dungeon, her mind muddled and her vision hazy. There was a sharp, metallic sting in her mouth, like an iron scorpion had crawled in her mouth and jabbed its tail into her tongue. It took several minutes before she was fully conscious, and even then she felt dazed and not completely herself. Her head was dull and pounding, her arms aching – it took her a few more minutes before she figured out that her arms were stretched above her head, unnaturally so, a coarse rope binding her wrists together. Her feet barely touched the floor – she had to stand on tiptoe precariously, which explained the pulsating ache in her thighs and toes.

The cell she was in was fairly spacious, considering it was her prison. It reeked of things that Freya didn't want to name - she settled upon 'bodily fluids' - and things that she simply couldn't identify. They certainly weren't pleasant aromas, though.

Freya held her breath for a few seconds; she was inhaling and exhaling heavily, but when she was silent, the only other sound was a constant dripping of what she assumed was water, somewhere a little distance away from her.

For the first time since she had awoken, Freya wondered where she was and why she was there – and who was there with her.

She had to wait a long time for her answer. She passed the time by thinking of her sweet husband, and her comfortable quarters back in Camelot, attempting - in vain - to ignore the persistent agony throughout her body. There was no window in her cell; no daylight or moonlight streamed in to aid her guessing the hour, but after a while she could hear the distinctive hooting of an owl, and occasionally their screeches as they swooped down on some unfortunate prey.

She predicted that dawn was breaking, from the various sounds of insects and birds, when she received a visit from her captor. She cursed her own stupidity for not guessing who it was earlier. The answer was obvious, really.

Her mouth was dry and her throat was raw – when she tried to speak, she could only croak. Morgana laughed at her pitiful attempt and stepped into the cell. Previously she had only lurked outside, staring hungrily at Freya like a hawk would a mouse, her pale, skeletal hands tracing the walls, pacing up and down. Her dress rustled with every precise, measured step, a small, annoying sound that got at Freya like an itch she couldn't scratch.

Morgana's eyes were bright and clear, like a cat ready to pounce, and her gaze was unforgiving. It held no empathy. She had stained her lips a bright red, which gave the rather disturbing effect of blood coating her mouth. Freya shivered under her gaze but told herself to remain strong, like Merlin would do.

Morgana didn't speak a word as she drew a dagger from her long, cuffed sleeve. It was short but elegant, wickedly sharp on both its point and edges, and more importantly it was headed straight for her.

Morgana pressed the point of the dagger against her neck, against her pulse. The edge of the blade lay flat against her skin. Freya held her breath as Morgana twisted her wrist, and the dagger spun with her. It trailed across her skin until it was poised just at the base of her neck, a few inches above the neckline of her nightdress. Disturbingly, Morgana seemed to relish her fear, her eyes fluttering shut momentarily as Freya willed herself not to burst into noisy sobs.

There was a rush of air as Morgana swiped her arms down, and Freya winced as she felt her skin break and a sharp stinging down her torso. Her nightdress was now ripped from top to bottom, hanging on her like a coat, and her smooth, alabaster skin had a cut that ran from her collarbone to her stomach, bleeding not too heavily but enough that Freya could feel it trickling down her legs, warm and thin and slow.

Absurdly - because this was really the least of her worries at present - she felt suddenly embarrassed by her nudity, as Morgana hacked at her sleeves. She nicked Freya a few times, and when Morgana was finally successful in removing the nightdress, it fell to the grubby floor with more than a few bloodstains decorating it.

Morgana looked as though she was preparing to do something cruel – but, Freya supposed, that was quite a common expression for Morgana. Maybe she just wore it permanently now, in order to avoid having to plaster it on whenever she had to burn down a village or something.

Still, Freya braced herself for the inevitable pain that Morgana would surely inflict on her. She did not know what Morgana wanted from her – information? – but she could not imagine that Morgana would go to the trouble of stealing her from her bed in the middle of the night just to lock her in a cell and do nothing with her.

Morgana let the blade graze over Freya's back lightly, just enough that Freya could feel it, not so much that it was actually causing her pain. Then Morgana pressed the blade down a little harder. Her skin didn't break; no blood trickled down her back, but this time it was definitely painful.

Suddenly the blade completely disappeared from her back, leaving no trace but a throbbing ache. She wished for Merlin to appear at any moment, to take her back to where she was safe.

* * *

"Morgana is using her as a trap," Arthur warned. It had been a day since Freya had been taken and Merlin was frantic, restless to head out and rescue her, but Arthur was forcing him to wait and consider.

"I know," Merlin said impatiently, "and I don't care. I can fight Morgana off; I'm not going to allow her to hurt Freya."

Arthur looked at Merlin's mutinous face and sighed. There was no point arguing with his former servant, he had known him long enough to know that for certain. "Fine," he agreed reluctantly. "Promise me one thing, though, Merlin."

"What?"

"Don't get yourself killed." Arthur gave him one of his looks. He knew that this was something Merlin had to set out to do alone, and, although he wished that he could accompany him, he knew that he could not.

"I won't," Merlin said with one of his infamous grins, the type that often meant 'let's just see how it goes, shall we?'

* * *

Merlin was able to teleport himself to Freya instantly – it was one of the many advantages of being such a powerful sorcerer. He and Freya were linked by such love that it was found even in the Earth. It was destined, and as such Merlin was able to easily conjure up an image of where she was.

"Merlin!" Freya cried out, as soon as he appeared. She thought she was imagining him for a second, but when he unlocked her bindings, she knew it was real. She fell into Merlin immediately, sobbing.

"What has she done to you?" Merlin asked in distress, stroking her hair. Freya was covered in grime and dried blood. "Let's get back home."

He quickly thought of their chambers back at Camelot and soon they were home, in the middle of the spacious room. Merlin helped Freya to sit down on the edge of the bed as he looked her over.

"She'll never hurt you again," Merlin promised, conjuring up a steaming bath with a wave of his hand. "Don't worry about her, let's just get you clean."

* * *

That night, when Freya lay in bed with Merlin, she couldn't stop shaking from the memories of what had happened to her when she was with Morgana. "Don't let her ever take me again," she whispered to Merlin.

"Never," Merlin whispered back, holding Freya as tightly as he could without hurting her. Her injuries were not too extensive, but he was still gentle with her, not wanting to heal her with his magic in case Morgana had enchanted them somehow and he made them worse.

Freya finally fell into a nightmare-filled sleep, waking every few minutes fitfully and then falling back asleep almost instantly to face more nightmares, but she had Merlin by her side. And that was all that mattered to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Even though I have already got SO many chapters written, I am always wanting more prompts! So please, send me all of your Freylin prompts and ideas and they will be written! Love you all and thank you all for being so patient with waiting xxx


	18. Kitten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I think I’ve done a terrible job on this but I hope you like regardless! Apologies for not updating on a very regular basis still – I have A-levels coming up next year and I need to start doing work for them now, I am busy with other things and my beta is also quite busy! But it won’t ever be more than two weeks in between updates :)
> 
> Prompt: dragooonthegreat on ff.n: “something just cute and fluffy about merlin and freya with their kids.:)”

As soon as Merlin walked through the door, he was ambushed by three small, squealing toddlers. He smiled down at the triplets as he pried them away from his legs gently. Freya, curled up in a chair in the corner, put down her book and jumped up to greet him.

“Come away from your father, children,” she admonished gently. “Let him get in the door before you attack him. He’s had a long day at work.”

The smallest of the three and only girl, Elana, blinked up at him and asked in a whisper-soft voice, “What did you do at work today?”

“I helped the prat – I mean, the King, sort out some arguments between some farmers and cast some spells to make sure nobody can attack Camelot,” he told the young girl and her brothers.

Henry, the middle triplet, looked over his shoulder at his mother. “We want to hear about Daddy’s day,” he pouted at her. Freya sighed and rolled her eyes, but Merlin cut her off.

“How about I tell you over dinner?” he suggested. He picked up Elana and kissed her up-turned nose, eliciting a giggle from her. “Freya, when will dinner be?”

“About half an hour,” Freya answered softly. Having three children, all of the same age, was causing her a lot of stress, but her husband was always able to quiet her mind and make her relax. “I was just about to finish the children’s lesson.”

Elana, Henry and Joshua groaned as one, Elana burying her head in her father’s chest. “But we don’t want to do lessons!” she whined, in a high-pitched, teary voice. Merlin saw Freya run a hand over her face and came up with a quick plan to save his wife from bursting into tears as well. “How about we do lessons after dinner? We could do some conjuring now.”

The children cheered now instead of shrieking, and Freya smiled, nodding at Merlin in appreciation. “Good idea,” she said in relief. “I’ll warm some wine for you, Emrys.”

Having lived with druids for a long time, Freya was prone to slipping back into their tongue from time to time and referring to him by his magical name. Merlin didn’t mind – he thought it was sweet and never bothered to correct her.

Merlin sat down at the table with his children, glancing with amusement at their excited faces. Without even speaking, he closed his palm and then opened it again. A beautiful, azure butterfly fluttered out. His triplets shrieked in delight and applauded. Freya set two goblets down, both filled with a rich, plum-hued liquid. A little steam rose up from them.

When the butterfly had been flying for a little while, and the novelty of it was beginning to wear off for the children, he snapped his finger and the butterfly exploded into a bouquet of flowers. Merlin caught it in his left hand – his wine cup was in his right – and presented them with a flourish to Elana, who squealed with delight.

“Your turn,” Merlin instructed his kids. “Let me see what you can do.” Just like him, his children could do some magic without needing incantations or any conscious idea of how to do what they were doing.

Elana cleared her throat, stood up on her chair and held her hand open. She stared at her palm expectantly. After a half minute of nothing happening, Henry sniggered. Freya silenced him with a stern look, and Merlin said, “Give her time, Henry.”

Her brow was furrowed in concentration, then it cleared and her face broke into a smile of relief as a wild rose grew from nowhere in her palm. “Daddy! Mummy! Look!” she squealed happily. She handed it to Freya, who accepted it proudly and tucked it behind her ear.

“That’s beautiful,” Merlin praised. “Henry, what about you? How are you getting on?”

“I can turn stones into fire,” he said hesitantly. “At least…I did it once, by accident.”

“Try again,” Freya encouraged. She pulled a stone from her pocket; Merlin didn’t question why she had it. Freya had a habit of collecting odd knick-knacks that she found around the forests when she went for a walk.

Henry stared at the stone in front of him with the same fierce concentration as Elana before him. Joshua sighed and fiddled with a strip of cloth, then lay it down carefully. Freya patted his hand, to let him know that he would get his turn as well.

Then suddenly the stone transformed into a small fire, just as Henry had promised. He beamed at his parents, and they both smiled back. It went out after a few seconds, leaving the stone behind once again.

“Very good, Henry,” Merlin commended. “And Joshua?”

Now that it was his turn, Joshua sat up a little straighter and clutched the strip of fabric in his hands. “I can turn this fabric into a kitten!” he said proudly.

Merlin frowned. “Really?” That sounded highly advanced for even a practiced wizard, and his son was definitely not in that category.

“Yes!” Joshua hesitated. “Well…it might actually be a kitten that I found and I turned it into some cloth so I could bring it home secretly.”

Freya rolled her eyes. “Joshua, we’ve said before: we can’t have a kitten. You would have to look after it yourself and you don’t know how to.”

“Please?” Joshua begged. He loosened his grip on the fabric and it immediately transformed into a tiny kitten, striped grey and black and mewling for milk pathetically.

Now that Freya was faced with the small cat, she seemed to think different. “Okay, fine,” she muttered reluctantly. “You need to look after it yourself though.”

Joshua beamed. “Thank you!” He hopped down from the table without asking – but Merlin let him disobey their rules just this one time – and scurried off with his kitten.

Merlin looked at Freya and rubbed her back. She leaned into him automatically, resting her head against his shoulder. “Looks like we have a new addition to the family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: To those who have already sent me prompts, thank you very much! Please keep on sending me more prompts as I have over 450 more chapters to write!


	19. Lights

"Please, Your Majesty," the farmer stammered. "This sounds absurd, I know, but – it is truly happening, and I do not know a way to stop it."

"Go ahead," Arthur said kindly. He was used to having his citizens who were overwhelmed in front of the King and the many members of the court, and he tried to encourage them gently when he could. "However strange, I have no doubt seen and heard stranger." The comment earned him a rippled chuckle from around the court.

"Well, Sire, the thing is…recently at night, people have been seeing these floating lights. Myself among them. We had no idea what they were, of course, but then…" The man hesitated, obviously about to reach the part of the story that he considered unbelievable. Arthur nodded his head to show him that he could continue. "Some people started following the lights," the farmer blurted. "And they never came back. We heard horrible screams so we did not dare follow. But we did manage to stop one lad, and he said that he was drawn to the lights because they had his dead wife." The farmer swallowed. "We're confused by them, Sire, and we suspect magic is involved. We just…we're out of our depth, and it is getting harder and harder to stop our friends from walking to the lights."

Arthur leaned back in his wooden throne. This was by far one of the more interesting cases he'd heard of. "You say that only some people are attracted to the lights?" he queried, just to be sure.

"Yes, Sire. We looked for a connection but we could not find one."

"Thank you for talking so honestly. Have any of you remained at the village?"

The farmer shook his head definitively. "No, Sire. We all came here to talk to you. All of those that are left, that is." He swallowed, and Arthur felt a pang of sympathy; he had seen how in a small community, like in Ealdor, everyone was close to each other and losses were not just suffered by the family.

"I will see that you are all given shelter and food," Arthur promised. "For while we investigate at least and, if the problem cannot be solved, for as long as you live."

Arthur thought the old man might have cried if he was not in front of so many people. The last time he had seen someone so touched was when he had given Merlin the day off because his mother wasn't well and he could barely focus on work due to the worry.

The man shuffled backwards, bowing, and Arthur nodded to a few of his knights to accompany the man and the other villagers to new homes and make sure they were fed. "The council is dismissed for today," he announced, and the various Lords and Ladies scattered. The only ones who stayed were Merlin and his most trusted Knights of the Round Table.

"I think it goes without saying that we need to venture out there," Arthur said lowly. "And I think we should go as soon as we are able to; I want to find out what on earth is happening in that village. Is an hour long enough to prepare for such a journey?" At the murmured and nodded agreements, Arthur continued, "Pack enough for two weeks, just in case. We do not know how long we will be there for."

The group split, Merlin staying with Arthur as the king was lost in his own thoughts. "Are you alright, Arthur?" Merlin asked quietly, knowing that the king was not always in the mood to be disturbed when thinking so deeply.

"I am just wondering what the linking factor between those victims is," Arthur replied, starting to walk from the Great Hall. "I would have thought anything obvious would have been spotted by the farmer or other villagers."

"Perhaps there is no linking factor," Merlin suggested. "Perhaps it is just random – or maybe it is down to who sees the light first. It could be anything, Sire, magic is not always a logical thing."

"I suppose you are right sometimes," Arthur said condescendingly. "Now, pack my bags would you? And make sure you take enough for yourself – if you need anything extra, don't be afraid to take it from my supplies." Merlin was touched by that last remark – it stemmed from their last venture out when Arthur had discovered that Merlin possessed neither a blanket nor a thick enough coat to keep him adequately warm.

"Thank you, Arthur." Merlin said it softly enough so that Arthur could pretend not to hear, which he did.

* * *

"I wonder what the victims have in common," Leon wondered aloud as they were trotting along a shaded forest path. "The farmer said there was nothing, but there must be something."

"Funny you should say that – Merlin and I were discussing the same thing earlier," Arthur said in reply. "Merlin thinks that it could be something to do with whoever sees the lights first, or maybe it is even completely random. What did you say about magic, Merlin?"

"It's not always completely logical," Merlin shouted from the back. And he should know, after all; he had to deal with the fickle thing day in day out.

Merlin tuned out of the conversation for the rest of the journey, trying to figure out for himself what the lights could be. He was only brought back to reality when he realised the others were bringing their horses to a halt by the entrance to a small but cosy-looking village.

"Here we are," Arthur announced. "It looks fairly normal to me."

"It's still daytime," Elyan pointed out, dismounting and scanning the village.

Merlin did the same and was immediately hit by a wave of nauseous discomfort. There was something not right about this village, and it punched him in the gut harshly. He wondered whether any of the others were feeling the same thing, but decided not to broach the topic. They would bring it up if they felt it, and it could be due to his magic, which he definitely did not want to attract attention to.

"I say we make camp in that barn," Arthur said, pointing towards a fairly large red building. "That way we are sheltered but also we can look over a lot of the village." The other knights murmured in agreement, and Merlin swallowed the unease that had risen up in his stomach.

They led their horses along to the barn in an unusual silence; Merlin thought for a second that maybe they felt the same odd queasiness, but soon Gwaine broke the silence with, "Why is nobody talking?" and that was the end of that.

* * *

A few hours later, the group was sitting around a fire they had made and laughing with each other. Arthur couldn't help glancing over at Merlin every few seconds though – he was not joining in with the usual chatter and joking, and seemed rather pale and distant, worried almost.

Arthur was about to say something when Merlin stood up. "I'm going to get some more firewood," he said quietly. "The fire's almost died down."

The knights glanced to the centre of their circle in surprise; the fire was indeed dying down and none of them had noticed. "Be careful," Arthur warned. "Don't follow any lights. Gwaine, could you-"

Merlin smiled tightly. "I don't need a babysitter, Arthur."

He walked out of the barn quickly and sucked in the cool air. Evening was falling now and the night was steadily approaching with a darkening sky. He hurried towards the woods to collect more firewood and told himself that he was being ridiculous. He was probably just feeling sick because of his magic.

* * *

"I wonder," Percival began, and then stopped abruptly. "No, forget it."

"What is it, Percival?" Arthur asked curiously.

"I was just thinking…" the tall man said slowly. "The thing that connects all of the people who went to the knights; could it be love? I mean, the farmer said that the only man they were able to stop had seen his dead wife in the lights and wanted to join her, so maybe it attracts those who have lost their loved ones."

"Percival, you're a genius!" Gwaine exclaimed. "That's got to be it!"

"It fits," Arthur agreed thoughtfully. "Has anyone here lost anyone they loved, other than family?"

Everyone shook their heads, and Gwaine asked, "What about Merlin?"

Arthur paused for a second. "I don't know. I wouldn't think so," he said honestly. "Ever since Merlin came to Camelot, at least, he has never been sad for more than a day at a time, and even then it is not such a deep sadness."

"Then we are all safe," Gwaine said merrily, and began to pull his boots off. "Time to relax."

By the time Merlin had returned, the conversation had moved on to the topic of Gwaine's socks and how they could make a grown man retch, and nobody remembered to ask Merlin the vital question or tell him of the discovery they had made.

* * *

"We'll take shifts all night," Arthur said when men started to yawn. "In pairs at least."

Merlin nodded. "I'll take the first shift; I'm not tired yet."

"And I will," Arthur said as well. "The rest of you, get some sleep. We will wake you in two hours or so."

* * *

Merlin stared out at the lights. They were so beautiful and so intoxicating: they were whispering to him, promising that if he came to them, he would be reunited with Freya. He could see them even through the closed doors of the barn, they were so bright. He stood up, heading towards the doors. He was going to welcome the lights and let himself be with Freya again.

"Merlin, what are you doing?" Arthur asked in alarm.

"I'm going to the lights," Merlin said dreamily. "They're so beautiful, Arthur, can't you see them?"

"Oh Gods," Arthur muttered. He leapt forward and grabbed Merlin by the arm, ignoring his struggles. "Wake up!" he yelled to the sleeping knights.

"What's up?" Gwaine asked in surprise.

"Merlin's trying to get to the lights," Arthur said grimly, watching as his men's faces fell. They all cursed, some loudly (Gwaine), others under their breath (Leon) and rushed forward to help him restrain Merlin.

Leon took one of his arms, Percival the other, and together they pulled Merlin backwards.

"Come on," Leon coaxed, doing his best to fight against Merlin trying to push forwards. "You can go to the lights later."

"I need to go to them now," Merlin insisted. "I won't be able to see Freya if I don't."

The knights exchanged uneasy glances. They had never heard of anyone called Freya before, and if they knew nothing about her, it would be harder to stop Merlin.

"She'll still be there in the morning," Gwaine said reassuringly, but Merlin only shook his head adamantly.

"No! You don't understand. Freya died a long time ago and this is my only chance to bring her back to this world."

"That won't happen," Arthur said as gently as he was able to. "You'll die."

To all of their surprise, Merlin burst into noisy sobs and curled up in a ball on the barn floor. Percival kept his hand clamped on Merlin's arm just in case, but running seemed to be far from the manservant's mind.

"It's all my fault," he wept, not talking to anyone in particular. "I should have saved her."

Percival glanced over at them for help. He looked totally lost about what to do, but even as Elyan opened his mouth to comfort Merlin, his mood changed and he was back to raging and straining to get out.

"You have to let me go to her!" he pleaded, running even though he could not move anywhere. "I let her down and now she will know that I did not mean to."

"She will know that anyway, Merlin," Arthur said sharply. If there was one thing he was not allowing to happen tonight, it was for his friend to be carried away by odd lights.

"If only I had never come to Camelot, this would never have happened," Merlin muttered, pulling at his hair. "This is all my fault – no, your fault – no, my fault – no, everyone's fault."

And so the cycle repeated until morning; he would go through the different emotions over and over again, try to escape, and the knights would have to try with their greatest efforts to stop him from running off. Once or twice he managed to nearly get to the barn doors, but there was always someone to stop him.

When morning dawned, Merlin finally slumped to the floor. The knights all breathed a sigh of relief, and Arthur rushed to his side to check he was alright. Then he slumped down next to him, exhaustion finally defeating him.

When the time came to saddle up the horses and ride back to Camelot – it was an unspoken agreement that they should return – nobody said a word to Merlin. It was not that they did not respect him now, or that they thought he was odd; he just seemed to be in his own, broken world, and none of them wanted to disturb it.

They had learned everything they needed to know about Freya last night, and probably more as well. The loss that Merlin had gone through had shocked them all, and the many looks that were exchanged between them said everything they needed to. Be kind to Merlin, support him, because how was he meant to carry that burden for any longer after the horror of last night?

Merlin only spoke two words on the ride back to Camelot. The knights made light talk amongst themselves, nobody wanting to breach a subject too serious, when Merlin suddenly said, "Thank you," and that was that.

Privately, every knight thought that it should be them thanking him, for his selflessness.

 


	20. Memory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 20
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: This was so much fun to write, but I really don't think I've done the prompt justice :/ it was so good and so creative but I'm just a rubbish writer :( I hope you enjoy this regardless!
> 
> Prompt: Elise.v: "(Morgana is still good) when guinevere is queen, Morgana needs a bnw maidservant, and doesn't know she has just hired Merlin's love of his life. Freya doesn't remember anything about her time with Merlin, though she falls in love at first sight :)  
> (Like a kind of present from destiny to Merlin -)"

Morgana wandered through the lower town absent-mindedly, fingering a few silk scarves as she went. She smiled to the citizens and gave a few coins to those begging, and an apple to a small child who looked half-starved, and bit into one herself.

She was looking for a new maidservant; ever since Gwen had become Queen, she had been short of one, and her hair had a life of its own. As well as that, she needed help with getting dressed, bathing, and getting her meals for her. She knew an old woman who worked on a fruit stall, where she would buy another apple and also be able to hear all of the latest gossip, which the wizened lady always knew. Morgana hoped she would know something about any girls looking for a decent job.

Soon enough, she came to the battered stool and grinned when the lady threw her an apple. She threw a coin back in return, laughing when the woman bit into it and coming to talk to Cindel. "Morning," Morgana greeted cheerfully, examining the colourful array of fruits.

"Good morning," Cindel grunted. She sounded grumpy constantly, due to the way she spoke, but she was kind, friendly and always had a nice word to spare for all who passed. "What have you come to find out today?"

"Am I really that obvious?" Morgana giggled. She took a bite of the sweet, red fruit and chewed quickly. "I need a new maidservant. Do you know of anyone who could do that?"

Cindel's face lit up in delight, and she clapped her arthritic hands together. "I know just the girl," she croaked happily. "Sweet little thing, her name's Freya and she's just come here. She woke up next to a lake and the last thing she remembers is a brutish man attacking her, so she made her way here. I'm letting her stay with me because there's nobody else for her, and she's badly in need of a job. Not just for money, but she gets restless sitting around all day. And let me tell you, she's a darn good seamstress."

"Perfect," Morgana exclaimed, taking another dainty bite of her apple. "Can I go see her now?"

"Maybe not," Cindel said slowly. "She's a bit timid, so maybe I could just bring her along tomorrow?"

"That would be fine," Morgana smiled. "I hope she and Merlin will get along."

"Oh, I'm sure they will just fine," Cindel said, with a twinkle in her eye. "You know, the only thing that Freya remembers after being attacked is a young man with blue eyes, wearing a red shirt, trying to help her."

"You think it could be Merlin?" Morgana gasped.

"Could be," Cindel nodded. She smiled at a little girl who had approached the stall shyly with three coppers and asked for some carrots. "She's very sweet, anyway, I'm sure Merlin will help her to get settled in." She handed the carrots over and winked. "We'll just see how things go."

"Hi, Freya, I'm Morgana." Freya smiled shyly, her hands twisted around each other and her breathing quick.

"I'm Freya, my lady," she murmured, with her head down.

"Don't call me that," Morgana laughed. "Just Morgana, I hate seeming all high and mighty." Freya looked up quickly and smiled. "And I know you're naturally very shy, but please don't feel like you need to be obedient and meek around me."

"Okay," Freya said, in a voice that was just a tiny bit bigger than a whisper. Morgana counted that as a small victory for that day.

By the end of the day, through Morgana's gentle encouragement and coaxing, and Freya's gradual settling in, the girl was talking in a normal volume and had even laughed once. "I have dinner with the King and Queen tonight," Morgana said as she bathed. "There's a few dignitaries that will be attending, so I'll need you to attend to me. Just fill up my wine and do any odd jobs, like sometimes Merlin has to go and help the cooks bring in trays if there are a lot of them."

"Merlin?" Freya asked quizzically. She knew that name from somewhere, though she had never heard of anyone called Merlin before. It gave her a kind of warm, fuzzy feeling though.

"Oh, yes, I completely forgot to mention Merlin!" Morgana said happily. "He's Arthur's manservant, and he's absolutely lovely."

"He sounds it," Freya said almost dreamily.

Morgana smiled as various lords bowed to her, and she curtsied back. She had given Freya a half hour to get herself ready for the feast, but her new maidservant still hadn't turned up. She would be annoyed, but she was new and could have gotten lost around the castle, after all. She was more worried, until she noticed that Merlin wasn't there either, and then her lips quirked up into a smile.

* * *

"I feel like I know you," Freya said softly, not daring to look at the man in front of her. He had stunningly blue eyes that contrasted against his pale skin, and jet black hair like a raven's feathers. All in all, he was attractive and she was just Freya.

"You do," Merlin replied, tilting her head up a little. He smiled when she looked at him properly and she couldn't help a smile either.

"How?" Her voice was barely a whisper. "Please tell me. I need to know."

"I don't think you'd believe me," Merlin said thoughtfully. "It's an odd story, you know."

"Try me." Her voice was steadier than she thought it would be. Somehow, she was oddly calm around Merlin, as if she had known him for so long that she had grown comfortable in his presence.

"You were cursed, by the mother of a man who attacked you. You were scared and accidentally used magic to kill him. And in return she made you kill for all eternity."

"How did she do that?"

"She cursed you so that you turned into a giant winged cat at night and killed relentlessly. And you returned to your normal self in the morning and hated yourself for it. And then I found you after you were caught by a witch-hunter kind of person." Merlin stopped for a few seconds to allow Freya to bring everything together.

"Yes, I am starting to remember now," Freya said quietly.

"Good. Do you want me to continue?" Merlin moved his arm nervously and disturbed a glass vial on one of Gaius's various desks. He caught it quickly with a flash of gold in his eyes and set it back carefully.

"Yes please," Freya said politely. She had shifted towards him slightly though, obviously becoming more confident around him.

"Well, I kept you under the castle and we made plans to escape. I didn't know about your curse at first, but eventually you tried to escape so you wouldn't be burdening me, and you turned. You were found by Camelot's men, and they caught you in the shoulder."

"So I died?"

"Not immediately. You turned back and I took you to a lake. You had always wanted to live next to a lake with fields and mountains. That's where you died. How you came back…" Merlin shrugged. "That's where I can't tell you anything more."

"Neither can I," Freya confessed. I remember waking up by a lake, but that's it." Her head had begun to pound from the memories springing back. "I don't want to be a bother, but…" She stood up and swayed. "Is there somewhere I could lie down?" Then everything went black.

* * *

"Where am I?" she asked as soon as she woke up, not even opening her eyes first.

"My room," came a soft, kind voice. Freya smiled as she recognised it as Merlin's. "I wanted to put you on a bed so you'd be comfortable."

"Thank you," Freya murmured, cuddling herself under the warm blankets. "Come join?"

Merlin's breath hitched. "I'm okay here," he said awkwardly. Freya was obviously still out of it and he didn't want to do anything that she could later feel embarrassed from.

"Then I'll come to you," Freya yawned, and opened her eyes finally. It was dark outside with just a candle inside the room so they could see, and Merlin was smiling at her, sitting on a chair next to the bed. She sat up and wrapped the blanket around herself, and then settled herself into Merlin's lap.

"I remember everything now," she whispered to him. "That's why I fainted. It was too much. But, Gods, Merlin, I love you."

"I love you too, Freya," Merlin muttered, and kissed her softly.

They managed to keep their relationship a secret for three months and two weeks before Morgana walked into her chambers earlier than expected and found them kissing instead of doing laundry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Leave me a review to let me know what you think of this chapter please? *bats eyelids* and also please leave me ideas for future chapters!


	21. Strawberries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 21
> 
> Warning/s:
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I am really ill :(
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot2: "Merlin always grew strawberries. It didn't matter what the season was you could always find a plant covered with the ripened fruit somewhere in his rooms. It would not have been that odd either were it not for the fact that Merlin would never eat any of the fruit himself."

Merlin must have green fingers, that was the only explanation that Gwen could think of. For every time she visited the manservant's room, he had the plants growing in small pots around the room.

It wasn't unusual for Gwen to visit him. The two had been firm friends for much longer than Gwen had been queen, and whilst she had many duties to attend to, she always found time at least once a week to catch up with Merlin.

And every time, he had strawberry plants. But Gwen had noticed one thing – he never ate them. He would wait until they were fully ripe and a succulent red, and then he would gather them in a basket and could be seen walking out of the citadel, and through the lower town, until he eventually disappeared from view.

Nobody was quite sure where he went from there, only that when he returned, the basket was empty and he would shut himself away in his room for the next day, having asked Arthur for the day off already.

And Gwen wanted to find out why this time.

It was winter, and even with fires lit around the castle it was freezing. Stone was definitely not the most insulating of materials. Gwen had taken to wearing a thick cloak and gloves even around the castle, and she continued to do so now as she made her way to Merlin's room. She had missed the daily chats she would have with Merlin when they were both servants, and still valued his friendship.

She bumped – literally – into Merlin just as he was coming out of the room, with a basket full of strawberries. "Oh! I just came to talk," Gwen said pleasantly, not wanting to disturb Merlin with whatever he was doing.

"I was about to go to…" The rest of his sentence trailed off as he looked at her, biting his lip awkwardly. "Come with me," he said abruptly.

"Are you sure?" Gwen asked in surprise. Merlin was usually so private about these visits, sometimes going as far as to outright deny that he had been anywhere when he plainly had.

Merlin nodded. "You're probably wondering where I go anyway."

"Well," Gwen admitted, "I have been, a bit. I never wanted to pry though; you always seemed so sad when you returned from…wherever."

Merlin nodded and started walking again. "There's a reason for it," he said. "But the thing that makes me sad – she is worth it."

Gwen stared at Merlin in surprise. "She?"

Merlin nodded. "Freya. It will become clear once you meet her."

* * *

"This is a beautiful lake," Gwen breathed, as they reached the shores of Avalon. "Is this where Freya is?"

Merlin nodded. "The strawberries are for her. She loves strawberries."

"Where is she?" Gwen asked curiously, looking around for this mystery woman.

"In the lake," Merlin said unexpectedly. "She died quite a few years ago. But I still bring her strawberries. She still loves them."

Gwen frowned. She hoped that Merlin was not still mad with grief after all this time. "Merlin…you do understand that she's dead? She can't eat the strawberries."

"Oh, she can," Merlin said confidently, pulling a boat out from a group of thick shrubbery, which had hidden it so effectively that Gwen hadn't even spared the area a second glance. "It sounds like I'm insane, or making it up, but a part of her still remains, here in the lake."

Merlin set the basket of strawberries in the boat, and then pulled two candles out of his pocket and some small scrolls of parchment, a quill and a bottle of ink. "She gets bored, so I bring her things to do," he explained to Gwen. "Sometimes books, sometimes games, sometimes paper and ink."

Gwen frowned. Merlin's actions were – well, they were the actions of someone in denial. But he said that Freya had passed years ago. Maybe because he had never told anybody it was still far too strong for him to handle?

Merlin untied the rope that kept the boat docked and pushed it off. It glided through the water with the odd assortment of gifts. "Just wait," Merlin said confidently.

Gwen nodded and waited patiently. She was always one to give fair opportunities. She was about to tell Merlin that this was all in his mind and console him, for the boat was just sitting in the middle of the lake, when a fine mist rose up from the water and surrounded the structure, winding round it and engulfing it.

"That's Freya," Merlin said happily, watching the mist. "When she died, I put her to rest here, at this lake. And I don't know why, exactly, but the lake kept her alive in spirit and occasionally she can visit me using her corporeal form."

"Merlin, this is…" Gwen was going to say 'strange', but strangeness and oddities seemed to follow Merlin around hand-in-hand. "Wonderful," she settled for eventually.

Merlin beamed, nodding. "I know. I can't visit very often because of my work in Camelot, and she is very busy anyway. She's called The Lady of the Lake now, and she guards the veil between our world and the next. She makes sure nobody is there unjustly, and guides them through to the other side one by one."

Gwen was still not sure if this was the truth or if Merlin was so driven by grief that he was making all of these rambles up, but regardless she patted her friend on the arm and watched as the mist died down and some invisible force pushed the boat back to them.

Then, as if carried on the wind, Gwen heard the words "I love you," and looked at Merlin to see him smiling. "That was Freya," he told her.

"She sounds lovely," Gwen said, not quite knowing what else to say. She believed Merlin now, but she was finding it hard to process what was happening.

"She is. On the inside and the outside." Merlin collected the now empty basket from the boat – the other things had vanished as well as the strawberries, Gwen noted – and tied it back to keep it under the shrubbery.

"It's better than nothing, but I still wish it was more," Merlin said wistfully, staring out over the lake. Gwen couldn't say she disagreed. The two of them sat on the sand and pebbles, leaning against each other as they watched the lake ripple with the light breeze and the trees whisper to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is so terrible I'm so bad at writing


	22. Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 22
> 
> Warning/s: Not any that I can think of.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: This was a really good prompt - kudos to ruapilot02! My dog decided to throw up when I was in the middle of writing this. Thought that might be interesting.
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 - "I have heard surprisingly little of how Merlin would react to meeting the woman who cursed Freya and the few times I have he always ends up showing her mercy somehow or another or is stopped mid reaction. The thing is that there are a depressingly large number of people who harmed Freya in her short life and I find it strange that some have been remembered while one party in particular has passed unnoticed. Everyone remembers that her misfortune began with being attacked by some man whom she killed in self defense. The man's mother then cursed her in retaliation. She fell in to the hands of the bounty hunter and was brought to Camelot in chains. She met Merlin and he lost her tragically, on Arthurs blade no less. However few have addressed how halgi captured her. For truth be told she was not so much captured as she was betrayed. The druids to whom she either sought out or grew up with abandoned her they refused to keep trying to help her they turned her away and sold her to a man who they knew would mistreat her and have her killed. They went against everything that they supposedly stand for and I can't help but think that Merlin would react far more violently towards them for such a crime than he would an old woman driven half mad with grief."

Merlin was on a mission. He was rarely this angry, but today he was livid, fuming. The druids were meant to be a peaceful people, protecting all and fighting none, but these druids had turned Freya away when she was most in need. They had gone against their own morals because they were too cowardly and scared.

He had been dwelling on the matter that morning, and all of the night before that. It was their fault that Freya had died, and he was going to ensure that they paid the penalty for it.

He set off at first light, letting his magic guide him to the nearest druidic camp. He could not be sure which particular group had turned her away, but if this one wasn't the group that had cast her out, they would know where to go.

His boots stomped along the path to the woods. They had deliberately thrown Freya out, without even trying to help her, and given her to a man who they knew would mistreat her and eventually lead to her death.

And that was not something that Merlin was inclined to forgive.

As it happened, the first group he stumbled upon where the druids who had cast her out. The woman who was by the first tent was startled to see him, and mumbled 'Emrys' as he passed. Merlin ignored her and walked to the middle of the camp, where he knew the leader's tent would be.

All of those who he passed bowed their heads, and grew uneasy. They could obviously sense his foul mood that tinted his magic. He remained silent until he reached the innermost tent, and was greeted by the leader.

"Emrys," he said politely, though his eyes were cold and it was obviously not sincere. "Would you like to talk?"

"Yes. Now," Merlin growled, stalking into the man's tent.

He wasted no time on niceties. "Why did you cast Freya out from your community? She was seeking safety."

"She endangered us," the man said coldly. "The way she turned at night; we would all be dead within the week. What was I supposed to do, Emrys?"

"Save her," Merlin snapped. He was growing steadily angrier, and as he did so he could feel his magic bubbling and boiling underneath the surface. "You are the most practised in magic out of all of those of the Old Religion. You should have at least tried."

The man shrugged, and his nonchalant attitude infuriated Merlin. He was acting like Freya was not a girl but just a curse, a burden to them. "She is dead now, or so we hear. So I am not concerned with matters of a dead girl."

That was when Merlin snapped; his magic flowed out through his finger tips and throughout the camp. There were screams from the people as their tents were ripped apart by invisible claws, as their food turned sour and rotten. All of their water turned to flames and the ground cracked beneath their feet.

Merlin stalked from the tent, full of anger still. Not only had this man been responsible for Freya's death, he did not even care about what he had done. He had no remorse as his grief for Freya grew and grew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: She threw up again as I was editing Christ


	23. Dance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 23
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I'm off to Norfolk today for a week wooo
> 
> Prompt: Kiki1770: "a Canon Universe one where Arthur and Gwen are watching a peasent's celebration (the knights standing on guard) when all of a sudden they see Merlin with his illustrious and mysterious date (Freya, duh lol)"

"I remember doing this last year," Gwen said, with a touch of wistfulness in her voice. "I mean, I'm so happy with you and I wouldn't swap any of this for the world, but – it was so much fun."

"I know it was," Arthur murmured, kissing her hair. They were both on their balcony outside their shared room, watching the traditional peasant's dance beneath them. Ever since Arthur had been made king, he had decided that it would be held in the courtyard so that it would be safer for those who came to dance. He had guards stationed everywhere and a few daring citizens had called out to their king to join them, all of which he had declined with a smile and a wave. He wanted this festival to be for them.

"Me and Merlin always used to come together, you know," Gwen said, leaning her head on Arthur's chest. "Just a friends, of course. It was always a bit of fun to dance and get dressed up."

"I wonder if he'll be coming back this year," Arthur replied, scanning the courtyard beneath them to see if he could spot the manservant anywhere.

They were silent together for a few minutes, watch the men and women dance together. Then Gwen let out a squeal and pointed down excitedly. "Look! There's Merlin!"

Arthur leaned over the balcony and caught sight of a dark-haired man – along with a dark-haired woman. "Who's he with?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know," Gwen frowned. "I've never seen her before."

* * *

Merlin took Freya's hand and led her into the courtyard via one of the many secret passageways he knew of. "Remind me again why I'm squeezing through here?" she asked jokingly.

"Because I know if we go through the main entrance, we'll be bound to run into Gwaine or Leon or someone I know, who will want to know all about you – and I want this night to be just about us."

Freya grinned and kissed Merlin's cheek affectionately. "All three of us," she smiled, patting her stomach.

"Of course," Merlin replied, winding his arm around her waist when they stepped out of the narrow passage-way. Little did she know about the small gift he had secreted in his pocket.

"Wow," Freya breathed when they stepped out into the large area. There were candles lit all around, and Arthur had even hired Camelot's best musicians to play tonight. There was a reason why Arthur was their favourite King so far.

"It's nearly as beautiful as you," Merlin said into her ear, smiling when a blush crept onto her face.

"Are we going to dance?" she asked, grasping hold of his free hand eagerly. She had never come before, having always been far too shy to show her face in public before. This was the only year she had found enough confidence to come with him.

"Of course," Merlin said, guiding her to the edge of the area where people were dancing. He wasn't particularly keen on the idea of Arthur or Gwen seeing him, especially with what he had planned.

* * *

"I don't know who she is but she's really pretty, and she looks really sweet!" Gwen said happily. "I hope they're going to get married, Merlin really does deserve some happiness, you know."

"I know he does," Arthur began, and he was going to add something else, but then he saw something in Merlin's hand flicker in the dim candlelight. "Gwen, I think your dream might come true."

"What?" she asked in confusion, and then she gasped when she caught sight of the glimmer of gold as well. "Oh!" She clutched Arthur's arm. "Do you think…?"

* * *

Merlin slipped his hand into his pocket and withdrew the golden ring. He had gone to Elyan in secret and had it made, saying it was for a friend back in Ealdor because they didn't have any blacksmiths back there. Elyan had refused any payment from merlin and had carved the most beautiful ring that Merlin had ever seen. It was exactly the kind of thing that Freya would love.

Their first dance came to an end; Freya was resting on Merlin's chest, their hands intertwined and his breath fluttering her hair. "Can I ask you something?" he asked nervously.

"Of course," Freya said softly, breaking apart from their embrace reluctantly. She looked up with her soft, brown eyes and Merlin fell in love with her all over again.

He pulled the ring from his pocket and held it up to Freya. Her eyes widened and she blurted, "Yes, yes, so much yes!"

"I didn't ask yet!" Merlin exclaimed, his head buzzing. She had said yes.

"You don't need to," Freya whispered, her eyes shining with tears. She leant in and kissed Merlin gently, giggling. "I love you."

"I love you too, so so much," Merlin whispered back. He tugged Freya back into the dancing area, where they began their first dance as a betrothed couple.

* * *

"I don't care if they're not royal, we're getting them a proper wedding."

"And chambers in the castle."

"Agreed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I actually just stretched so hard that I sprained a muscle in my back


	24. Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 24
> 
> Warning/s: SHORTNESS BECAUSE I'M RUBBISH AT WRITING WEDDINGS AND I GET ALL SQUISHY INSIDE ABOUT EMOTIONAL SHIZ
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I'm having a Hannibal marathon and I forgot how good it is
> 
> Prompt: Gingerwolf96: "Freylin's wedding"

"With these words I do bind you as husband and wife," the minister announced.

Freya smiled and bit her lip shyly, knowing what was coming next. Merlin smiled back. He hadn't been able to stop staring at Freya throughout the entire night; she looked particularly radiant that night. She was wearing his favourite dress, deep purple with silver embroidery around the hems, and her hair was twisted back in a simple plait that spiralled around her shoulder.

"And with a kiss, you will be sealed in harmony," the minister finished.

Freya took Merlin's hands in hers and stopped biting her lip. Merlin leant in first and kissed her deeply, ignoring Arthur's claps behind them in the seats and Gwen's happy sobs. Freya laughed when they broke apart, happy tears forming in her eyes, and hugged Merlin quickly. Gwen and Arthur stood up, applauding, and as was tradition, ran to open the doors for them, to lead them to their personal chambers.

Merlin took Freya's hand and led her down the aisle, stroking his thumb over her hand gently. She was shaking with excitement, and almost squealed a couple of times. Arthur patted Merlin on the back, grinning happily at him, and Gwen was crying again.

Once they were back in the privacy of their room, Freya gasped, "We're married! Finally!"

"I know," Merlin laughed, enchanted by his wife's beauty. "Being married to you is the best feeling ever."

"I can agree with that," Freya said shyly, intertwining their hands. "Wedding days can't compare to anything else in the world."

"Definitely not," Merlin agreed.

"Wedding nights are almost as good, though," Freya grinned with a wink. Merlin laughed and picked up his wife by her hips, stumbling towards their bed, clumsy with happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I hate emotional things, I'm autistic so it just does not come naturally


	25. Lamia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 25
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I've just started sixth form and already I'm going to die from the work load
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "the lamia could not affect Merlin because of his feelings for Freya."

The Lamia was facing him down, her eyes slitted like a snake's. She was licking her lips almost furiously, obviously puzzled why she wasn't brainwashing him. "How?" she hissed eventually, half in the form of her snake and half like a normal girl.

Merlin smiled. It hurt to remember Freya, and it wasn't usually a good hurt, but this time it was. Because Freya was saving him from this creature. "The Lady of the Lake," he muttered back, the shadows making his face menacing and ghostly.

"You know her?" the Lamia questioned, looking suddenly curious. "Has she protected you?

"No; we love each other," Merlin replied. "I love her so much that you can't penetrate my soul."

The Lamia hissed and lunged towards him, obviously deciding that if she couldn't entrance him, she would just kill him. Merlin was defenceless, and panicked a little, but then a sword swooped across his vision and the Lamia, in her pure snake form, fell in two.

"Thanks, Gwen."

* * *

"The knights told me what happened," Arthur said softly. Merlin looked over his shoulder, taking a break from scrubbing the floor.

"Sorry?" he asked, eyebrows creasing in confusion.

"With the Lamia," Arthur clarified. "About how they were all taken in."

"Oh, yeah," Merlin said dismissively, turning back to scrubbing the floor. Honestly, if Arthur kept coming in without taking his muddy boots off first…

"They said you weren't affected by it?"

"No, I wasn't." Merlin scrubbed a bit harder, starting to sweat a little. "Are you going to ask why?" That was the only question he had been getting for the past week, ever since they had returned from battling the Lamia.

"Yes, I am." Arthur had sensed the bitterness in Merlin's tone, and had guessed correctly that he was tired of the question. "I'm sorry, but nobody has been able to give me a straight answer."

"I don't know either, Arthur," Merlin said untruthfully. "Maybe because I'm not a knight?"

"No, that can't be it…" Arthur tapped his hand on the table thoughtfully. "I mean, Gwaine and Elyan and Percival, they're not of noble blood; so that wouldn't separate you from them. It must be something else."

"None of the knights are in love," Merlin said quietly. He half-hoped that Arthur would hear him and half hoped that he wouldn't.

There was silence, and Merlin wasn't sure whether he had heard him and was processing, or had simply not heard him.

"You're in love?" he finally asked his manservant.

"Yes. Freya."

"How long?"

"Not too long. We fell in love quickly but she died about three years ago."

"Oh…Merlin, I am so sorry."

"It was not your fault, Arthur." Technically he supposed that it was, because Arthur had killed her, but he wasn't to know, and she was a giant killing cat at the time.

"I know, but…" He could hear Arthur shift uncomfortably in his seat. "I can't even imagine what it would be like to lose Gwen in that way."

"I wouldn't wish it on anyone," Merlin said quietly.

There was silence between the two of them for a few seconds, interrupted only by Merlin's scrubbing brush, before Arthur spoke again. "Tell me about Freya."

Merlin swallowed. "She was…beautiful. Funny, clever, beautiful, unique and unusual, I guess. She was unlike anyone else I've ever met; she fit me perfectly. Like we were two puzzle pieces made for each other."

"Do you believe in soulmates?"

"Yes. Freya was my soulmate." Merlin felt tears rushing to his eyes and quickly blinked them back, thankful that he was facing away from Arthur.

"And you think the Lamia couldn't affect you because you're still in love with her?"

"Definitely."

When Arthur next spoke, about fifteen minutes later, Merlin was relieved to find that it was about what other chores he could be doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i'm dying i have a sore throat


	26. Hurt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 26
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: Sixth form is so much work omg I have twenty-seven items on my to do list right now
> 
> Prompt: Elise.v – "Merlin exidently [accidentally] hurts Freya with his magic, (not even much) but he is so shocked about it that he won't use his magic anymore, so he can never hurt her again. (With really bad consequenses for his health) I would be most pleased when merlin only JUST makes it!"

**Day 1:**

"I cut myself on a thorn," Freya called out as she came into hers and Merlin's chambers. "Could you heal it for me?"

"Of course, love," came her husband's distant voice. "Is it bleeding at all?"

"Not anymore," she called back, sucking on the cut. It was on her first finger, right underneath the nail. Within a few seconds, Merlin was coming down the stairs that led up to their workrooms and library.

Freya held her finger out to Merlin, pouting. "Fix it."

Merlin kissed the cut and then muttered something under his breath quickly. Instead of the warm sensation she had expected, there was a sharp, stinging feeling. She gasped in pain and pulled her hand back automatically, clutching it to her chest.

Merlin swore loudly. "Oh Gods, I did the wrong spell! Freya, I'm so sorry!" He stepped towards her and opened his arms in a hesitant hug. Freya accepted it gladly, not really in pain. It had more been the shock that had made her react that way.

"It's okay," she whispered, her voice muffled by his chest. "Everybody makes mistakes, Merlin, and this was only a tiny one."

"I hurt you," Merlin whispered in a disbelieving voice.

Freya spent the rest of the evening trying to persuade Merlin that he wasn't a terrible person.

* * *

**Day 2:**

Freya got up at her usual time, early in the morning, and was surprised when Merlin stayed in bed. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked, concerned, and received a nod. She was surprised at his silence and that he seemed to be down and tired, but regardless she got herself dressed and prepared breakfast.

When the smell of bacon and eggs couldn't rouse Merlin, Freya started to worry. She served the food onto two plates, grabbed cutlery and headed back to their bedroom. She frowned when she saw that Merlin had not even moved from his spot.

"I have breakfast," she said softly.

"I'm not hungry," Merlin replied. His voice sounded wrecked, like was holding back tears.

Freya sighed and placed his plate on the table next to their bed, and moved round to sit on her own side to eat. "You can't beat yourself up because you accidentally hurt me, Merlin," she said gently, taking a bite of egg. "Greater wizards than you have made greater mistakes, Merlin, and so have lesser wizards. Besides, you managed to heal it anyone, so please just eat for my sake. I don't want you getting ill."

"I'm not hungry," Merlin repeated.

* * *

**Day 3:**

"I'm worried about him," Freya said as soon as she stepped into Arthur's chambers. She had grown desperate and gone to Arthur and Gwen for help and support. "He accidentally used the wrong spell and hurt me a little, and now he won't use magic at all. I think it's making him ill."

"That would make sense," Arthur said thoughtfully. "He told me once that if he doesn't use at least one spell a day, he gets all worked up."

"How can I make him use magic?" Freya asked desperately. "He's not eating, he only sleeps when I join him, and I wish I could stay with him but I so badly need to get help."

"We'll help," Gwen said quickly. "Let's go to see him now, see if he opens up any more."

"I don't think that would be a good idea," Freya said sadly. "He doesn't talk much; he seems to just want his own company."

Gwen bustled over in her full, wide-skirted dress and wrapped Freya in a warm hug. "Merlin will pull through," she murmured.

"Definitely," Arthur agreed. "He comes through everything."

"I hope so," Freya said tearfully. "Has this ever happened before?"

"Never," Gwen said softly. "But I am sure he will pull through."

* * *

**Day 4:**

Merlin's brow was warm to the touch, and it was worrying Freya greatly. "Please eat," she begged. "You have a fever."

"I'm not hungry, Freya."

"Merlin, please," she begged, tears forming in her eyes. "I couldn't bear to lose you."

"You will not lose me," Merlin reassured her. He made the first movement that he had since he had hurt her and stroked her hair. "I will survive this."

"No, you won't," Freya argued. "You are magic, Merlin, you don't just have it. It is damaging you to not use it."

"Do not fuss over me," Merlin coughed. "Please. I can't bear to use my magic again, not when I harmed you with it."

Freya began to sob, and laid down next to her husband. "Don't cry," she heard Merlin say weakly, but that didn't stop her as she buried her face into her husband's chest.

* * *

**Day 5:**

"Freya!" Merlin cried out, in the early hours of the morning. "Don't!"

Freya woke up with a start and looked over at her husband. "I'm right here, Merlin."

Merlin was wide awake, or so it seemed, but his eyes were starting right up at the ceiling, unseeing, and they were filmed over with a ghostly gold. "Don't die, Freya!" he cried. "You can't die!"

"I'm right here," Freya cried in confusion, leaning over her husband. She had no effect on him; she still kept calling out to her, pleading with her to stay with him. Freya slipped out of bed quickly and ran out of the door, heading down the many winding corridors to Arthur and Gwen's chambers.

She knocked on the door, hurting her knuckles, ignoring the wide-eyed stares of the guards. "Gwen! Arthur!" she yelled, bursting into tears. Gwen shot out of the room, wearing just her nightgown, and gathered Freya into her arms.

"What's wrong?" Arthur shouted, holding his sword and looking incredibly sleep-deprived.

"Merlin!" Freya sobbed. "He's seeing things! Please, help! Please!"

Arthur didn't even reply, but ran down the corridor straight away. Gwen was slightly gentler in her actions, ushering Freya after the king at a slower pace, with her arm supportively around Freya's shoulders and muttering comforts.

Once they reached their chambers, Gwen helped Freya into a chair and sat down next to her friend, glancing over worriedly at Merlin. He was struggling in Arthur's grip; the king had grabbed the Court Sorcerer, and sat him up, holding him against the headboard while he talked to him calmly but firmly, trying to snap him out of it.

"Gwen, he's refusing to do magic because he's scared that I'll get hurt," Freya whispered, terrified. "I'm making him this ill."

"Don't think that for a second," Gwen comforted, over Arthur saying, "Merlin, Freya is fine. Come back into the room." She glanced over, not able to conceal the worry in her gaze, and continued, "He's scared that you're in danger right now, that's his worst nightmare. He loves you so much."

It took until four in the afternoon to calm Merlin down, at which point Freya was nearly dehydrated from tears and had gladly fallen into her husband's arms.

* * *

**Day 6:**

Freya had gone to sleep in her usual position, with her head resting on Merlin's chest and her arms around his waist. When she woke up, she was unpleasantly shocked to hear that his heartbeat was almost twice what it usually was. She shook Merlin awake hurriedly, tears already streaming down her face.

"Just do magic!" she begged. "You're going to die, Merlin!" She was probably going to wake half of the castle with how loud her shrieks were, but she didn't care.

"I can't risk it," Merlin rasped. "I hurt you and I can't do that again."

"Merlin, it was a tiny cut that you accidentally opened a bit, and now your life is in danger!" Freya yelled. "Just do something! Turn a book into a plant, just do something!"

"I can't, love," Merlin croaked. "I can't because hurting you killed me inside, however small or accidental it was. And I can't go through that internal pain again." His breathing was far too fast and raspy; Freya sighed in desperation and did the only thing she could think of to possibly make his heart rate go down. She used her magic to cast him into a light sleep, and was relieved when his breathing slowed down, even if his heart didn't.

* * *

**Day 7:**

Merlin was at Death's doors.

Freya was in despair.

So she did something drastic.

She grabbed the silver knife from the table and walked back over to their shared bed. "Merlin, look at me," she insisted. Even though he was fading in and out of consciousness, he seemed to make a special effort to look at her.

"If you're dying, I cannot live," she announced. She showed him the knife and then plunged it into her stomach. She shouted out with the pain – far greater than she could have ever imagined – but bore it as best she could.

As far as she was concerned, she had come up with a fool-proof plan. If Merlin died, she would too; but if Merlin healed her, neither of them would die. Either way, she would remain with Merlin for eternity.

"Freya, no!" Merlin cried out. Automatically, he threw his hands onto the stab wound and muttered something slowly, as if it was taking all of his strength just to talk. There was a pulsating, blue glow around her stomach and the pain subsided as the wound began to heal.

A golden dust flowed from Merlin's body, and he breathed slower and slower. "Yes, keep going," Freya urged, holding his palms up to let it out quicker. It was entrancing, seeing the golden particles flying through the air, and Freya was almost disappointed when they were gone.

"You're better," Freya whispered, throwing herself onto Merlin. She looked back up at him, her eyes shining with tears. "Don't you dare ever do that again!"

"Don't stab yourself ever again," Merlin retaliated, prodding her stomach softly to see if the wound was fully healed.

"You idiot," Freya giggled through her tears. "I did that so you would heal me – because I was almost certain you would – and that would heal you!"

"Oh," Merlin said. "You're sneaky. And sly. But clever."

"All of the above," Freya agreed, and leant in to kiss her husband softly, savouring the fact that he was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: For once I actually like my ending!
> 
> Please give me loads more prompts because I'm starting to run out! It is much appreciated and I love you all x


	27. Awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 27
> 
> Warning/s: None
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: This is such a good prompt and I've so not done it justice ugh
> 
> Prompt: Nicely Nicely's little sister - "the knights have noticed a new servant girl and are busy building up the courage to approach her, when Arthur comes over and breaks the truth to them."

"She must be new," Leon said thoughtfully. "I have never seen her before, and I encounter all of the servants at some point or the other."

"I wonder what brings her here," Elyan added, sharpening his sword. The new maidservant was pretty, with long, dark hair that matched her eyes and a deep red dress. She was carrying a basket of freshly laundered cloaks across to them, and had only just stepped out of the castle.

"I wonder if she's available," Gwaine said, as if that was the most important thing in the world. The other knights groaned but secretly, they shared the sentiment as well.

"One of us should go and welcome her to Camelot," Percival suggested, but nobody moved. They were all too intimidated.

"She looks a little lost," Leon pointed out, as the girl looked around her before seeming to gather her bearings and heading in the right direction. "Maybe we should assist her?"

"That basket does look rather heavy," Elyan agreed, and the other knights murmured their assent.

"So, who's going to do it?" Percival asked, all of them staring at the maidservant still. She hadn't noticed their staring, seemingly too wrapped up in not tripping over her own feet and going in the right direction.

"You go, Gwaine," Leon said. "You're used to this kind of thing. Go and say hello, and then introduce her to us."

"Alright then," Gwaine said, though he didn't sound as confident as he usually did when approaching a maiden. He made as if to walk towards her, but then stopped himself. "Arthur's coming, it's too late now," he said by way of excuse.

The others nodded their agreement and turned to face their king. "What are you all looking at?" Arthur asked as he got closer.

"That serving girl," Leon said, nodding towards her. "We were wondering if she was new; we have never seen her before, and Gwaine in particular seems to know every maiden in this city."

Arthur laughed. "She is new, you are right. I don't think she would be particularly interested in you, though, Gwaine. Her name is Freya and she moved here to be with her betrothed."

"Oh?" Gwaine said, far too casually to actually be casual. "Who's that?"

"My idiot of a manservant," Arthur grinned. He was looking over at Freya again, and when the knights followed his gaze, they saw that Merlin had joined her, and had taken possession of the wicker basket. The two chatted as they made their way over and once they reached the small group of knights, Gwaine wolf-whistled.

Merlin merely rolled his eyes whilst Freya flushed a bright red. "This is Freya," he introduced. "We're to be married."

"When did this happen?" Leon asked incredulously. He had known Merlin longer than the others and had never heard Merlin express even an opinion on women.

"About four years ago," Merlin said casually. "It's complicated." Freya smiled shyly, and then curtsied to them all. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Knights."

"The pleasure is ours," Gwaine replied, with slightly too much innuendo in his voice. Arthur kicked him inconspicuously and gestured for them to carry on making their way across the field.

Once they were out of earshot, Arthur glanced round at all of his men. "Right, being with Freya is the happiest I've ever seen Merlin, so treat her like a fragile piece of glass, alright? If she got hurt, Merlin would be destroyed." The knights nodded, a little surprised by Arthur's blatant affection, but before long the usual king was back and barking orders at them to get ready and do their practice drills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: so much homework *cries*


	28. Proposal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 28
> 
> Warning/s: None
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I hope this is what the prompter wanted – I really enjoyed writing this, I seriously had so much fun and it honestly is one of the best things I think I've written. It's not as long as I hoped for it to be because I didn't want it to become too drawn out, but I still love it! I hope you guys do as well 3
> 
> Prompt: darklordess668 – "Merlin wants to propse to Freya but doesn't know how so he goes to Arthur for help."

The first try was an early morning. Merlin thought it would be romantic for Freya to roll over to kiss him good morning as she always did, and to be met with the gold band instead. Then Merlin would appear with a bunch of her favourite flowers and a bowl of strawberries, and they would laugh and rejoice together.

That wasn't quite how it happened.

To be fair, Merlin did try to do it on three separate occasions before giving up.

He failed right from the first hurdle when he tried it initially. He tried to slip out of bed, so he could plant the ring and scurry to fetch the flowers, but his foot became caught up in the bedsheets and he fell onto the floor with a crash.

He heard a cry from Freya and hurriedly hid the ring (currently on the floor, where it had landed when he had fallen) in his palm just as she appeared. "Are you alright?" she asked anxiously, crouching down beside him and stroking his hair.

"I'm fine," Merlin groaned. "Just fell out of bed when I was trying to get up, that's all."

"Idiot," Freya said affectionately, and bent down to kiss him on the cheek.

The second time, Merlin was hindered because Freya got up earlier than him.

He woke up to find her side of the bed empty, and when he made a sound of confusion, she answered back from behind her dressing screen, "I woke up early and decided I might as well get ready!"

Merlin smiled. One of Freya's rather lovable habits was how shy she was; although she was comfortable with her body around Merlin when the time was right, she refused to change in front of him at any other time. "I didn't get my kiss," he called back, stretching.

"You'll get it in a second," Freya giggled. She emerged from behind the screen in her navy blue dress, one that fitted so well that it always made Merlin rather protective over her. "What do you think? I am needed for a council meeting."

"You look as beautiful as ever, love," Merlin said truthfully, smiling when Freya clambered onto the bed to kiss him on the lips.

"I don't need to go for a little while yet, though," Freya grinned with a smirk, hitching up her skirts.

You couldn't really blame Merlin for getting distracted.

The third time was – well, Merlin wasn't quite sure how to describe it. Far too many things happened for it to be put down to one single event. It all started with the pig-boy, though.

It started off when Arthur had rushed into their chambers without knocking. Luckily, they weren't in the middle of anything intimate – like that one time before that everyone chose to just pretend never happened – but Merlin was in the middle of trying to conjure a piece of parchment into a dove.

The door flying open startled the sorcerer, and the parchment turned into an owl instead, which angrily flew around the roof, screeching all the while. "Arthur!" Merlin shouted exasperatedly. "What do you want?"

He, unconsciously by now because he had been doing it for so long, patted his pocket to make sure the ring was still there.

And froze.

Because it wasn't.

Glancing around the room frantically, he saw a familiar glint of gold in one of the owl's talons. Merlin cursed internally and then forced himself to focus on what Arthur was saying.

"…so that's why there's a pig running rampage in the castle and it tried to eat one of Guinevere's shoes, which obviously frightened her quite a bit, because the shoe was on her foot at the time, and just now a farmer came running into the castle proclaiming that one of his sons played a trick on his other son, and the pig  _is_  that other son, so we need you to turn him back."

Merlin nodded mutely and glanced back up towards the owl. "Bring the pig here and I'll sort it out," he said hastily. "Oh, Freya, why don't you go with him? To help?"

Freya looked a little surprised but by now she was used to Merlin's odd requests, and knew that they usually meant that he needed to do something first that was better not talked about. So she nodded and followed Arthur.

Merlin swore as soon as they were out of the room and muttered a spell that would – hopefully – turn the bird back into parchment; when a heavy ring and a light leaf of parchment floated down to him, Merlin could have cried in relief. He stowed the ring back in his pocket securely and cleared a space for the pig to go.

This wasn't exactly how he'd planned the evening to go – he was going to make Freya a meal, a nice one, and then give her a bath and then, when they had woken up the next morning, propose. Well, he could still salvage the evening, right?

Wrong.

It was one in the morning before either of them even considered the possibility of bed. The pig had been so frightened at his ordeal that, both when he was a pig and then turned back into a boy, he had run around their chambers and destroyed nearly everything in sight.

So there had been gratuitous amounts of tidying going on.

And then Merlin burnt the dinner. And then he forgot to call for a bath to be prepared for Freya. And then he fell over his own feet as he was finishing putting away the last of the books, and Freya had to bind his ankle for him.

And then when they both woke up the next morning – later than usual – it turned out that Freya was running late for a council meeting that she needed to attend as one of Arthur's advisors, and as she was going, she slipped on the floor, and when Merlin came to help her, he banged his head against the door, so neither of them were really up for much more than stumbling back to bed.

That was when Merlin decided to give up on that idea.

* * *

It was only a day after the final failed attempt that Merlin came up with another great idea to propose. He would set up a treasure hunt for Freya, all around the castle, that would eventually lead her to a bowl of strawberries – and right at the bottom of them, for her to find when she had eaten the red fruits, would be the ring.

That was perfect – until Merlin realised one flaw in his plan. Freya would see right through the treasure hunt and just use magic to find out where she needed to be in the end.

So Merlin sat and racked his brains for another brilliant idea.

* * *

Merlin sat bolt upright in bed. It was the middle of the night, but he had just had the most brilliant idea. He would pretend that he had to go out on a week-long quest, but return a couple of days early, and surprise Freya by sliding the ring under the door. Then he would open the door and propose properly.

That was the plan, Merlin decided. And he was definitely going to put it into action.

Until he got the flu the next day.

* * *

Merlin's next plan of action was just to do something straight forward and simple. Freya would still love it, and that way his ingenious plans couldn't be foiled. And he was quite right – his plan to just get down on one knee and hold out the ring wasn't foiled by anything.

Apart from Merlin's nerves.

Eventually, he went to Arthur. He knew the King's schedule as well as, if not better than, his own. So he entered his chambers, sat down at his table, and waited for him to finish his training. It would be an understatement to say that Arthur was surprised to see Merlin waiting for him.

He yelped so highly that Merlin was worried he had given a serving girl a heart attack for a moment. Then he saw Arthur clutching at his chest, and wondering if maybe he had indeed given someone a heart attack, just to Arthur instead.

"I need your help," Merlin said plainly. Arthur raised his eyebrows and Merlin pulled out the ring and showed it to him. Arthur nearly cried, but of course he didn't. Because Arthur would never cry. Especially not at his best friend – ahem, Court Sorcerer – getting married to his soulmate.

"I can't do it," Merlin said sadly. "I tried to do it in nice, creative ways, and they kept failing, so then I thought I'd just do it normally. But I couldn't. I was too scared that she'd say no."

Arthur snorted with laughter at that. "Freya say no? Merlin, she adores you. She's probably been waiting for this moment even since you two first met."

"Help," Merlin said pleadingly, and he gave Arthur those puppy-dog eyes that Merlin knew were irresistible.

"Fine," Arthur said grumpily, although secretly he was thrilled that Merlin trusted him with such a big thing. "How many candles do you have?"

"Um, I don't know. Lots?"

"Good. Get more. Get enough to fill up your bedchamber."

"Will do." Merlin pulled a scrap of paper from his pocket and scribbled that down. "And then?"

"Run her a bath. Put some petals in it, girls like that. And wash her hair for her – Gwen always loves that."

Merlin made a note of all of those things as well. "And then I propose?"

"Not when she's in the bath. Wait until she's gotten ready for bed, and when she asks whether you should blow all of the candles out – because she inevitably will – say no, because there is one thing left to do."

"Propose?"

"Exactly." Arthur grinned, happy that Merlin was getting it. "She can't say no."

"Would she have said no otherwise?" Merlin asked, suddenly anxious again.

Arthur groaned. "No, I just meant – never mind."

Merlin stared at Arthur with narrowed eyes for a few seconds and then shrugged, standing up with the scrap of parchment in his hand. "I'll go and buy some candles," he said ponderously, wandering to the door.

* * *

With a wave of his hand, every single candle was lit – and would stay lit no matter what. They burnt brightly, some flickering slightly, others perfectly stationary. He had asked Gwen to spend the day with Freya, and she was due back any second. He hoped that Gwen hadn't given the game away even slightly – she was so excited when he told her of the plan that she had squealed and kissed Merlin on both cheeks.

The bath was full, with rose petals scattered in it. Freya's favourite night-dress was hung neatly over the dressing screen, freshly laundered and soft. Merlin had the ring in a small box in his pocket, and he had made the bed as neatly as it ever could be made.

He heard the tell-tale sounds of Freya approaching – footsteps, humming, and the special call she always used. "Mer-lin!" she sang, as she opened the door. Merlin did a quick check to make sure that everything was alright, and smiled at Freya when she walked in through the door.

"Oh, Merlin!" Freya gasped when she walked into the room. "This is beautiful!" she exclaimed, beaming.

"Almost as much as you," Merlin replied, helping Freya to undo the back of her dress. "I thought you might like a bath."

"Oh, thank you," Freya breathed. "You are truly too kind to me, Merlin."

"It's what you deserve." Merlin kissed the bare skin of Freya's shoulder as the loosened dress fell down her body, and then helped her into the bath. "Relax for a bit, I'll do your hair in a bit, okay?"

"That would be nice," Freya agreed. "Are you not joining me?"

Merlin forced himself to not get distracted. "Not tonight, love," he said awkwardly. "You know I love it but I have something planned." He might have imagined it but he could have sworn he saw Freya look hopeful for just a fleeting second.

"Okay then," she said readily, and sank back into the bath to enjoy the hot water.

* * *

"This is so sweet of you, Merlin," Freya said happily, as she was drying her hair behind the screen. "Honestly, you've put so much thought into all of this."

"You're worth it," Merlin replied, fingering the ring anxiously. He pulled back the covers on the bed, ready for Freya to slide into, and got changed into his nightclothes himself.

Freya emerged from behind the screen, her hair now only slightly damp, and wearing the freshly washed nightgown. "Any other activities planned for tonight?" she asked mischievously.

"That depends," Merlin said nervously. He turned around to face his hopefully-future-wife and smiled at her. She returned the grin and sat on the edge of the bed, obviously waiting to hear what he was going to say.

Feeling more nervous and anxious and stressed and just plain overwhelmed than he ever had before, Merlin lowered himself onto one knee and held out the ring. "Will you be my betrothed?" he asked, licking his lips.

"Did you even have to ask?" Freya asked incredulously, and flung herself onto Merlin. They toppled to the floor, laughing, and Merlin slipped the ring on Freya's finger.

"How do you feel about becoming Freya Emrys?"

"I feel like life couldn't be better," Freya sighed.

As it turned out, several other activities did happen that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I feel so conceited because I laughed and got really soppy over my own writing…but this is one of my favourite things I've ever written. I'm so happy with it! And please leave me some prompts that you'd like to see written :)


	29. Uther

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 29
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: Yo this is terrible and I'm really sorry because although this is an amazing and a really inspired prompt but I just couldn't get into it agh so I am so sorry
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "Uther finds out that Merlin has lost the love of his life. This knowledge prompts a strange bonding moment/s between the two wherein they are both comforted by the presence or consolation of someone who they know has experienced the same pain."

"Merlin!"

The serving boy turned around and then bowed his head immediately when he saw that it was Uther. He didn't even know that the king knew his name.

"My son tells me that you are taking the day off tomorrow."

"Yes, sire, if it pleases you." He hoped against hope that Uther wouldn't tell him that he was needed urgently for one thing or another.

"All fine," Uther said absent-mindedly. "This may be a personal question, but the Master of Servants keeps a log of days off, and I was flicking through it and couldn't help noticing that you only take one day off a year, and it is always the same day."

"Yes, Sire," Merlin said politely. He saw what Uther was getting at. "It is the anniversary of the death of my partner, Freya."

Uther nodded sadly. "The death of a loved one is truly a terrible thing. It rips you apart, into a million shreds that cannot be put back together again."

"It leaves you broken," Merlin agreed. He understood the pain that Uther had suffered through with Igraine, but still held a slight grudge against the man for what he had done to magic users.

"This Freya," Uther said slowly, "how long did it take you to get over her?"

"I never have, Sire," Merlin replied truthfully. "And I don't think that I ever will."

Then, judging that their moment of bonding was over, Merlin turned on his heel and went back to his duties hurriedly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I have so much homework yay


	30. Commentary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 30
> 
> Warning/s: none
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: This is so terrible omg I am so sorry and I did not even follow the prompt properly but I wanted to do something that at least vaguely followed the idea but I don't know I'm just very sorry
> 
> Prompt: Nicely Nicely's little sister - "Arthur and Gwen commentate on Freya and Merlin's relationship from afar. Little do they know, Freya and Merlin are doing the same to them."

**The first day that they found out:**

"They seem sweet," Gwen commented, looking out of the window at where Merlin and Freya were walking across the field together.

"They seem to be taking their bloody time," Arthur grumbled, hunting for his comb still. Ever since Gwen had undertaken Freya as her maidservant, the king and queen had noticed a certain bond between the two, and had even caught them in a few compromising conditions together. But it was only today that they had learnt that they were in fact courting, and had been since before Freya had joined the service of the castle.

"Leave them alone," Gwen chided. "I'm happy they were able to tell us the truth and now they do not have to hide their relationship."

"Whatever you say," Arthur said in the same grumpy tone, even though Gwen knew he was actually pleased that his clumsy, awkward manservant had found someone who he loved so much.

"I hope they get married; they said they've been courting for over four years now."

"Leave them be," Arthur said, wandering over to the window and peering out himself. "I have to say, though, Merlin seems a lot more confident when he's with Freya."

* * *

**The day that Merlin proposed:**

"Where are they?" Arthur complained, still lying in bed. He had always had someone who had helped him to get dressed, so unlike Gwen, he wasn't able to propel himself out of the warm sheets early in the morning.

"They've probably been a little held up with odd jobs," Gwen said sensibly. "They've never been late before now."

"I know, but I'm hungry!"

Just then, the door burst open, and Merlin and Freya burst in. "Sorry we're late," they chorused as one.

"See, I told you they wouldn't be long," Gwen said, rolling her eyes at the pair of servants.

"I'm hungry! I need breakfast," Arthur repeated, not even lifting his head from the pillows.

"Gods, I question why I love you sometimes," Gwen muttered, grabbing a stack of council papers. "Anyway, I – oh Gods! Is that…?"

At that, Arthur looked up and squinted over. "What?" he asked groggily.

"We're betrothed," Merlin said simply, showing the simple, gold band around his finger.

"Oh, wow," Arthur said. "I'm still hungry though."

* * *

**The day that they got married:**

"I couldn't be happier for them," Gwen whisper-sobbed. It was unusual for lower-class citizens to have any sort of wedding that was more than just hiring a minister, and even more strange for royalty to be attending.

But this was Merlin and Freya, after all; they were more than the average servants to the King and Queen. Gwen was crying silently, and Arthur was most definitely not because he was not moved at all, not even a little bit.

But he was sniffing a bit, just because Merlin looked so extremely over the moon and Freya was genuinely weeping with joy and when they kissed everyone cheered because there was so much love and fuck it, Arthur was crying.

* * *

**The day that Freya announced her pregnancy:**

"Um, we need to talk to you both," Merlin said one morning. They had been married for nearly six months now, and Arthur and Gwen had been continuing their weird – no, sweet – tradition of commenting on their relationship from afar.

"Go ahead," Arthur said, taking a swig of his wine and pushing the papers he had been signing away from him. Gwen did the same, gesturing for the two to sit down at the table with them

Merlin helped Freya into a seat and then sat down himself, looking at Freya questioningly. She shook her head and Merlin smiled.

"Freya's pregnant," he blurted out.

Gwen squealed and leapt up to embrace Freya and then Merlin. Arthur just sat in his chair, looking shell-shocked. The idea of Merlin being a father was too much for him.

"How long?" Arthur asked in a strangled sort of voice.

"Three months," Freya said happily. "We wanted to ask about taking some time off in the future…and also to let you know, of course."

"You can have all of the time you need off," Gwen said, "And…"

Arthur faded everything else out as he thought about the news. Merlin was going to be a father, and he was going to be the best father ever, and he was going to be forever the best husband that Freya could ever wish for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this is so awful and didn't even follow the prompt
> 
> but anyway please leave me more prompts to vaguely half follow


	31. Blind Dates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 31
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I'm really hungry because my dad said he would go out to buy bacon for breakfast and he's been like 2 hours. I have no idea why
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "Gwen decides to start playing matchmaker for Merlin convinced that he needs to find a wife and settle down. Her efforts are doomed to failure because Merlin still loves Freya." (Second part to follow)

"Sofia," Gwen said to the serving girl who was plaiting her hair, "what do you think of Merlin?"

The girl blushed and ducked her head a little. "He's very kind, m'lady," she answered shyly.

Gwen nodded thoughtfully. "This may sound a little odd, but…I am worried about him. He has no girl in his life, and I think he may be slightly lonely. Would you consider talking to him a little, maybe?"

Sofia looked up and bit her lip. "Of course, m'lady! We – me and the other servants – always thought he must have someone because he's so kind and sweet and never makes any advances towards us."

"Oh no," Gwen assured her. "I think he just doesn't know how to go about it, that's all. And he is so kind, as you say, that it is against his nature to do anything that could make someone uncomfortable."

"I will talk to him tonight," Sofia said brightly. "I often see him because we do our laundry at the same time. We tend not to talk about anything important most of the time, but I'll try tonight."

"Thank you," Gwen said, satisfied.

* * *

"Evening, Sofia," Merlin said in his usual friendly tone. He hauled a load of dirty clothes out of his basket and into one of the tubs of hot, soapy water.

"Evening, Merlin," Sofia replied, doing the same. "How has your day been?"

"Alright – Arthur had me running around all day and I'm exhausted, and I think he's going to use me as target practice tomorrow. How about your day?"

"Oh, it was fine," Sofia breathed, rolling up her sleeves. "This might be a bit forward, Merlin, but would you like to maybe go out for a picnic sometime? As friends, of course," she added hastily, seeing his confused imagination. "I just…I feel like we have known each other for a long time but have never really gotten to know each other, that's all."

"That is true," Merlin agreed, pulling out a heavy, sodden shirt and examining it. "How about tomorrow evening? I'll ask Mary to prepare some food in the morning, she owes me a favour."

"That would be lovely, thank you." Sofia couldn't wait to tell Gwen – she had done even better than she ever thought she would.

* * *

"What a lovely evening," Sofia sighed, looking out over the wooded areas of Camelot.

"Beautiful," Merlin agreed.

Truth be told, whilst Merlin was lovely, and Sofia had to admit that he was also very attractive, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to go further than friends with him. He was a brilliant friend and she sensed a sort of sadness about him, one that came with loss. And she was truly enjoying spending time with him as a friend – she decided to remain as just that.

* * *

He and Sofia were still chatting and had become a lot friendlier with each other recently thanks to the picnic, and Merlin was relieved to see that she truly wasn't seeking any romance. But ever since that, more and more serving girls – who had always known him, always worked with him, always been willing to lend him a favour or quick to ask for a hand with something – were sending him flirtatious glances, talking to him a lot more about non-work related things, and generally finding excuses to bump into him more often.

The latest was when Julia, an olive-skinned girl with long blonde hair, came into Arthur's chambers to deliver a message about how the council meeting would be held an hour later than usual, she purposely walked into Merlin, apologised, and winked as she walked out.

"She just flirted with you," Arthur said, half-surprised and half-amused.

"I know," Merlin groaned. He hit his head against the stone wall in frustration. "They all are and I don't know why!"

Arthur laughed at his manservant's annoyance. "Aren't you enjoying the attention?" he asked jokingly, though he did seriously wonder why Merlin was so wound up about it.

"I don't like any of them," Merlin complained, still leaning against the wall. His voice was muffled from it, and also echoed around the room a little. "Not in that way."

"Isn't it time you found someone who you can settle down with, though?" Arthur asked cautiously. His servant, as far as he knew, had never expressed any interest in that before, either women or men.

"I did find someone," Merlin said sadly. "Her name was Freya. She was perfect and now I don't want anyone else."

"Well, why don't you tell them that you already have someone special then?" Arthur asked him, apparently oblivious to the past tense that Merlin had used. "And why didn't you tell me?" he added indignantly.

Merlin turned around and leant his back against the wall. "Because she died a few years ago, and although I should be over it, I'm not, and I don't think I ever will be."

Arthur was speechless for a few seconds. "I am sorry," he said in shock. "Why did you not tell me at the time?"  _I hate to think of you suffering alone_ , he added in his head, but that sounded far too much like he was Merlin's friend to be said aloud.

"We weren't really on friendly terms," Merlin said ponderously. "And I guess it was part of my private life and I prefer to deal with my private life, well, privately."

Arthur nodded and frowned down at the papers he was meant to be signing. He couldn't concentrate on them anymore. "You can have the rest of the day off," he said quietly. It wasn't much, but Merlin knew what the gesture meant.

"Thank you," Merlin said softly, slipping out of Arthur's chambers silently and heading back to his room. He hoped he didn't run into any admiring serving girls on the way back, and he took the lesser-known passage ways at a run.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: SOOOOOO HUNGRY


	32. Explanation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 32
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I'm so tired and so sad. I think my depression is coming back
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "Arthur convinces Gwen to stop trying to find Merlin a wife by explaining the Freya situation to her. (With or without knowledge of magic)" (This is the second part)

"He has turned every single serving girl down," Gwen said out of the blue. "I've been asking all of the girls I know if they like Merlin, and you know what? Every single one of them can see themselves settling down with him one day, but he refuses all of them."

Her husband glanced up at her in confusion. "Wait…you're the reason all of the girls are chasing Merlin?" he said slowly.

"Yes. But he won't take any of them out anywhere on a date, he doesn't seem remotely interested in courting them," Gwen sighed. "Maybe I should ask some of the manservants, maybe that's why Merlin has turned all of the girls down."

"Oh…he hasn't told you," Arthur realized. "I thought he might have done, just because you were so close, especially at that time."

"Told me what?" Gwen asked curiously.

Arthur sighed. "I only found out last week. He did love someone, called Freya."

Unlike the king, Gwen did listen properly. "Did?"

"She died a few years ago, he said. And he loved her very much, and because of her, he does not want anyone else." Arthur looked at his wife earnestly. "I think he is happier without anybody than with."

Gwen stared back at him, a slight frown on her face. Then she smiled and said, "You know, you can be exceptionally wise sometimes."

"I know," Arthur grinned. "I'm just surprised that people don't notice it more." Then he grew serious again. "I just wish he hadn't lost her."

"How about trying to find out when she died?" Gwen suggested. "Gaius might know the date. Then you could offer Merlin the day off, show some support?"

Arthur nodded. "Good idea, I'll do that. I gave Merlin some chores to do, he should be back soon."

They moved on to different matters, such as what needed to be done with the taxes in the Lower Town, and Gwen made a mental note to herself to ask the serving girls to leave Merlin alone. She could only imagine how she would feel if Arthur passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I seriously need to get on with homework right now but I just can't motivate myself


	33. Wardrobe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 33
> 
> Warning/s: None that I can think of, a bit of 'suggestive' stuff towards the end.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I changed the prompt just slightly because…well, I like Gwaine way too much.
> 
> Prompt: anthi35 – "i would like something funny like arthur and/or the knights to stumble on merlin and freya in merlin's room without knowing they were in a relationship or not knowing about freya at all"

"Gwaine," Merlin hissed, lingering behind the group. The knight turned around, confused, but obligingly swaggered over to the warlock when Merlin gestured for him to, glancing around the forest nervously.

They were out on yet another hunting trip, and Arthur was so focused on the deer he was stalking that he hadn't noticed the two loitering behind. Gwaine yawned as he swung the crossbow over his shoulder, taking careful note of the anxiety on Merlin's features. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing," Merlin replied, just as quietly. "There's nothing wrong, just something I need to tell you. That you can't tell anyone else." Merlin glanced forwards to make sure that nobody was listening in.

"Go on," Gwaine said quickly, intrigued.

"It's not really a something," Merlin explained slowly. "More of a someone." He gave Gwaine a sidelong glance packed with meaning.

Gwaine opened his mouth to whoop but Merlin shushed him. "Who is she?" he whispered instead, practically bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Freya," Merlin muttered. "We met a few years ago but she had to go away for a while. We were only just reunited." He decided that it would be better not to disclose the specifics of the situation just yet.

Gwaine clapped Merlin on the back, his way of congratulations. "I won't tell anyone," he swore loyally. Then he added as an afterthought, "I want to meet her."

Merlin, expecting a myriad of questions from the knight, was pleasantly surprised at the simple statement, and blurted, "Of course. Whenever. She's staying with me." He caught sight of Gwaine's raised eyebrow. "Don't even think about saying it," he threatened jokingly.

Gwaine's bark of laughter was enough to attract the group's attention to them, and Arthur yelled in annoyance, "What the hell are you two doing back there?"

* * *

"Where is my useless manservant?" Arthur fumed, leading his most trusted knights with him to the physician's quarters. "Honestly, Gaius is gone for a few days, and Merlin forgets to wake up!"

The knights exchanged grins and smothered laughs at the king's apparent anger, which they all knew was just a shield for the fact that he was concerned for the young man.

When they eventually burst into the empty room, Gwaine's sharp ears picked up what sounded like a muffled conversation behind Merlin's doors. A quick glance at the others revealed that none of them had heard it, and Arthur was striding towards the door purposefully.

"Arthur, don't!" Gwaine called in panic, knowing that Merlin wished to keep Freya a secret from everyone else, at least until they were properly betrothed.

Arthur, as usual, ignored him, and the other knights looked at him curiously. Gwaine bit his lip as Arthur grabbed the door handle and flung the door open, a loud and indignant "Merlin!" about to fall from his lips, when he stopped abruptly.

A dark-haired girl sat cross-legged on Merlin's bed. She was wearing a deep purple dress that came down just past her knees, and her hair fell over her shoulders in loose waves as she bent her head forward to read a dusty manuscript balanced in front of her. She looked up in surprise when the door banged open, and flushed when she saw Arthur standing there.

"Sire," she said in surprise, and dipped her head in respect. She looked past him to the other knights.

"Sorry," Gwaine said. "I tried to stop him."

Merlin appeared in the doorway, wandering over from somewhere to the right. "Arthur, I told you I was going to be busy when I brought you breakfast," he said exasperatedly. He nudged Freya to make her shift and picked up a crumpled nightshirt that she had been sitting on.

"I was eating," Arthur defended. "Not listening to you." Merlin stared at him incredulously and shook his head, moving out of sight again and doing something that sounded like reassembling his entire wardrobe.

Freya began to bite her nails anxiously. Merlin had told her that Arthur's default tone and volume was annoyed yelling, but he sounded very irritated. Freya swallowed – she was still scared of anyone, especially broad and well-built men, sounding angry when she was near to them.

Merlin shot her a reassuring glance and motioned for her to take in some deep breathes as he muttered a few spells under his breath quickly to finish rebuilding his wardrobe, hoping that the knights wouldn't hear anything. She calmed slightly.

Luckily, Gwaine stepped in for them both. "Leave her alone, princess," he said cheerily. "Freya doesn't like it when people yell at her." He didn't know all about Freya's past, but Merlin had taken him aside and warned him about this particular fact.

Arthur glanced at the girl, seeing immediately that the blush had faded from her cheeks and left her pale and drawn, and she was chewing on her lip and her nails, alternately. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, knowing that the fake anger had obviously distressed her.

Freya nodded her understanding, reaching out for Merlin nervously. He took her hand, hoisted her up gently and led her to greet the knights.

In turn, Leon first, the knights bowed to her and kissed her hand, whilst Merlin explained to the rather baffled groups. "Me and Freya met about five years ago, but she had to go away for a while and only returned recently. I was going to tell you all when things were properly sorted out."

Arthur glanced at Merlin. "Whatever," he muttered. "She's far too good for you anyway."

Merlin grinned as Freya returned to him, tucking her slender frame into his side. "I know," he replied happily.

"I'll knock in the future," Arthur said after a stagnant pause.

Merlin cleared his throat. Freya nodded and remarked, "It's a good thing you didn't come in ten minutes earlier."

Everyone – excluding Freya – went bright pink and Leon said hastily, "We apologise for disturbing you. I'm sure the king will agree that it is time we returned to training."

Arthur's eyes widened in gratitude and he hastened to agree. The room was knight-free in seconds.

Merlin cocked an eyebrow at Freya, whose innocent expression betrayed how mischievous she actually was. "We were taking apart the wardrobe ten minutes ago," Merlin pointed out.

"I know." Freya's grin widened. "I wanted them to go, and the quickest way to do that was to embarrass them."

"Why did you want them to go?" Merlin pulled Freya flush against him, sensing the answer.

Her eyes were big and puppy-like when she hooked her leg around his waist and murmured, "So we  _can_  do something."

Arthur, having forgotten to ask Merlin the whereabouts of his helmet, returned a few minutes later. He was just about to knock when he heard the noises emitting from Merlin's room. He scuttled from the room immediately in a very unkingly fashion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: i am such trash


	34. Gaius

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 34
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: My mum's 50 today and I have to make a speech at her birthday dinner thing in front of her friends and work colleagues and I'm going to cry
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "Arthur and/or the Knights overhear an argument between Merlin and Gaius, where in Merlin snaps and either blames Gaius for or references his role in Freya's death."

"If you hadn't been so bloody stubborn, it wouldn't have happened!" Gwaine exclaimed.

"I was defending myself and blocking you," Leon protested. "It's called fighting, Gwaine. You were just unnecessarily vicious."

Arthur rolled his eyes at the pair of them and picked up his pace, eager to reach Gaius's chambers so the bickering would be over. The argument had sprung up when somehow – Arthur wasn't going to take sides because then everything just got messy – Gwaine sliced open a couple of Leon's knuckles and they started to bleed copiously, though luckily they seemed to be superficial.

Arthur's heart jumped with joy when they rounded the corner and could finally see Gaius's quarters. Arthur was about to reach forward and swing the door open when he heard a loud, resonating thud in the room. He jumped backwards automatically and indicated for the others to be quiet. It sounded stupid even in his own head, but he wanted to make sure that nobody apart from Gaius or Merlin were in there. Camelot had its fair share of intruders, after all.

"Move on, Merlin!" he suddenly heard Gaius say sharply, and another loud crash. It sounded like a book being slammed onto a table with some force, but whether it was Merlin or Gaius who had done it remained a mystery to those huddled outside.

"I can't move on," Merlin replied, sounding more sullen than usual but also…defiant?

Arthur leaned as close to the door as he dared to try and hear better, even though he felt slightly guilty about it, and the knights mimicked his actions.

"You need to, Merlin." And although Gaius sounded firm, there was also an element of sympathy in his voice.

There was another loud thud. And then another. Gaius shouted, "Merlin!" sharply and several more thuds followed.

All of the knights flinched when Merlin suddenly shouted. "You killed her, Gaius!"

Gaius's voice was low and even when he replied, "It would have happened anyway, Merlin, no matter what I had done. She was cursed."

"You handed her in; you didn't swing the sword but you set her execution date."

"Who?" Gwaine hissed at Arthur, nodding towards the door. Arthur shrugged, entirely clueless and confused himself.

"Merlin," Gaius's voice was soft and sad, "I understand the pain you feel. But it is not healthy; Freya has been dead for some years now. I am saying this for your sake; try to move on. Don't forget about her by any means, but try and get on with your life."

"I don't want to, Gaius." Merlin's voice was low and dangerous. It made a shiver run down Arthur's spine. "You killed her." Footsteps approached the door and out of instinct, the knights flung themselves against the wall. The door hit the wall as it was thrown open and, luckily for the hiding knights, Merlin stalked off in the opposite direction to them, not even catching sight of his friends.

"Maybe we should come back later," Leon whispered. His hand had stopped bleeding, so all of the others agreed that maybe they should let Merlin have his secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is so crap


	35. Captured sequel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 35
> 
> Warning/s:
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: These are all pre-written chapters and I need to start writing some more but there's too much schoolwork *cries*
> 
> Prompt: MamzelleHermy requested a sort of sequel to 'Captured': when Morgana takes Freya, she takes away her ability to bear children.

Merlin had to work late some nights, casting protective wards over the castle or something similar. Tonight was one of those nights, Freya had usually gone to bed by the time he had returned, so Merlin was surprised to see that their bed was still neatly made.

"Freya?" he called out uncertainly, wondering if she had curled up on an armchair with a book and lost track of time. Still, he didn't get any response from his wife, and he frowned as he bounded up the stairs to their library area.

It was possible that she had fallen asleep waiting up for him, so Merlin told himself to stop panicking and tried to force his heart to calm down.

She wasn't curled up in her favourite armchair, awake or asleep. Maybe she was in another chair, or sorting through a shelf. Merlin set off to explore the library for her, but she was nowhere to be found.

Frowning, Merlin searched the rest of his chambers; Freya was known to curl up in some quite unusual places to take a quick sleep. Explaining to Arthur that they couldn't hold a round table meeting because Freya was having a cat nap on top of the aforementioned table had been a memorable experience.

Half an hour had passed by the time that Merlin was satisfied he had combed his rooms. Now concerned about his wife, he marched from his room with a determined pace, his feet automatically taking him to Arthur's room.

He burst in without knocking, hoping that he and Gwen weren't 'busy', and asked loudly, "Have you seen Freya?"

Gwen, reading through some papers at the table, set them down and shook her head. "She was waiting in your rooms as far as I know," she replied with a hint of anxiety.

"Is she not there?" Arthur appeared, holding a dagger in one hand and a whetting stone in the other.

Merlin shook his head, his suspicions growing stronger. "I hoped she'd be here," he murmured.

Gwen and Arthur looked at each other in worry. It really wasn't like Freya to wander off, especially without leaving a note. She and Merlin were much too nervous about their relationship as it was, given everything they'd suffered through.

"Maybe she went to find you outside and you missed each other?" Arthur suggested.

Merlin let out a breath. Of course. That answer was so blindingly obvious. The relief must have shown on his face because Arthur asked (in annoyance and not affection, of course), "Did you really think that your adoring wife would go somewhere when she could be spending time with you?"

Merlin narrowed his eyes, about to make a come-back that would have been just as good as always, when Gwen interrupted. "Isn't there any kind of spell that you could use to locate her?"

Merlin hesitated. "Technically yes."

"I'm sending a 'but'."

"But it doesn't always work if your souls are too intertwined."

"Why not?" Arthur asked curiously.

Merlin rubbed his face as he tried to put the answer into terms that would make sense to those without magic. "The magic…it can't always identify the two separate souls, so I could end up locating both myself and Freya."

"Why is that not good?" Arthur picked up on Merlin's grim tone.

"If the spell picked two different people and locations, it wouldn't be able to cope and…simply put, the people and locations would implode from the spell's magic."

Gwen gulped. "Maybe not then," Arthur offered, his eyes wide.

"Perhaps not," Merlin agreed. He turned to go. "I'll go to check outside," he called over his shoulder.

But even after an hour-long trek around everywhere Freya could possibly be, and with the guards not letting anybody out of the citadel that night, Freya had well and truly vanished.

Sighing, Merlin headed back inside. He refused to allow his anxiety to overwhelm him, on the outside at least. His magic tended to get out of hand when he was anxious.

Merlin hurried back to the castle and headed back to their room; maybe she had gone to Gaius? She had been experiencing bouts of nausea recently, along with her ankles swelling at random intervals.

This thought was short-lived; at the foot of the stairs lay Freya, still but breathing. Merlin rushed to her prone form and took careful note of the dried blood on the edge of the last stair.

She woke almost immediately and, blinking blearily, felt her head. A patch of her hair had matted together with blood from a wound on her temple.

"What happened?" Merlin asked, carefully prodding at the lesion.

"Fell down the stairs," Freya mumbled, only just coherent. "Went to Gaius and…then…came back and slipped."

Merlin sighed in relief. A head wound he could fix easily; indeed, it was healed with just a few words. He picked up Freya gently, reaching out with his magic to check she had no further damage.

"Time to sleep," he said quietly. His wife made a small, purring noise in agreement as they arrived at their rooms.

He felt stupid for getting so worked up now; at least she had no lasting damage. There was just one thing that Merlin couldn't fathom: there was some kind of magic surrounding Freya, and not pleasant magic at that.

Merlin pondered on that when they were both in bed and Freya was asleep. He supposed that it could just be his own magic clouded around her, tainted by his worry. It was certainly the only explanation that made any sense to him.

* * *

_Two months later_

"Merlin?" Freya was standing in front of him, clutching a thick, leather-bound book.

"Mm?" He reached out and accepted the book, reading the cover: 'Magic of Fertility'.

"I've been looking for a spell that you will help me get pregnant for ages now, and I think I've found one." She flipped open to a page she had marked.

Merlin nodded. "I can do that," he said confidently, motioning for her to sit down next to him. "Did Gaius's fertility teas not help?"

Freya shook her head, then paused. "I thought they were working…that night I fell down the stairs, I had gone to Gaius and he thought I might be pregnant but he wasn't sure. I forgot to mention it and by the time I remembered, nothing had happened so I guess it was a false alarm."

"Did your moon cycle come back?" Merlin asked absent-mindedly, reading through the spell.

"I can't remember. I just stopped feeling sick and my stomach didn't grow."

Merlin nodded, placing his hands on Freya's lower stomach. He chanted the long spell under his breath, taking care to pronounce everything right. His eyes flashed gold, his magic surged out…and then stopped, like it just fizzled out. Merlin frowned and tried again, but the same thing happened.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm not sure." The strange-feeling magic was back. "It's like there's something blocking it, a different kind of magic."

"What does that mean?" Freya asked, instant panic flooding into his tone.

"I don't know." Merlin worried at his lip. "I'll do a spell of reason, okay? To find out why it's not working."

At that, Freya calmed a little and sat back. Merlin focused his magic on her, storing it in his finger-tips, and then let it flood out and flow into Freya. One image came straight into his mind: Morgana.

He started back in surprise, wondering when the hell Morgana had become involved in anything to do with Freya. "When did you last see Morgana?" he asked urgently, gripping his wife's hands.

"What? Last year, when we fought against her and I was helping with the injured. Why?" she asked in alarm.

Merlin screwed up his eyes in lieu of answering. With a flash he remembered the same dark magic on the night she'd fallen, her lack of memory; he remembered thinking after the time that two hours was a long period to be knocked out for, considering the fairly minor head wound.

"Oh no," he whispered to himself. "Freya, the night you fell down those stairs, what do you remember?"

"Nothing, I was unconscious," Freya said, slowly and sounding both scared and suspicious.

"I'm going to do a memory relieving spell," he told her. "It will lift any blocks put on your mind."

At this, Freya began to panic again. "Why? What's been done to me?"

"Calm," Merlin intoned, seeing her breathing increase in speed and become more and more shallow. "It might not be anything bad, just something I had to check." Merlin hated having to lie to his wife; when Morgana was involved, things were rarely good.

Freya nodded, although a tear squeezed out from her eye when she blinked. Merlin kissed the top of her head as he gently pressed his fingertips against her temples. Concentrating, he searched through Freya's mind until he ran straight into a solid wall with a thump. He murmured a few words under his breath, his eyes flashed gold and the wall crumbled.

Freya's reaction was instant. She lurched forwards with an anguished cry and flung herself onto Merlin, shaking. "I…I remember."

"Remember?" Merlin asked urgently. "What do you remember?"

"Morgana. She…" Freya broke off with a tormented groan. "She stole it!"

"Stole what?" Merlin didn't really need to ask. With the dark magic and suspected pregnancy, Merlin thought that he could already guess. He felt his heart sink.

"My baby," Freya whispered, trembling. " _Our_  baby. She…she took it and then she made it so…so that I could never have any more babies. Ever." She dissolved into tears, flinging her arms around her husband, who offered her silent support until she slipped into sleep, at first, restless, but then sweetened by her husband's magic.

* * *

It had been a week now since 'the incident', as Merlin had taken to calling it. Freya was still curled up in bed, barely drinking or eating. Merlin was able to ease her nightmares when she slept, but during her waking hours she would sob into her pillow, and no amount of comfort that Merlin gave her seemed to do any good.

When she slept, Merlin occupied his time with research. Flicking through pages of fertility spells as boring after a while, all of them just variations upon the same principal. Finally, in the last chapter of the ninth book, he had found what he was looking for.

He made sure Freya was deep in a dreamless sleep before he set off. This was the first time before he set off. This was the first time that he had emerged from his chambers in a week, and several servants stared in surprise. He ignored them in favour of getting to Gwen's chambers as quickly as his feet would carry him.

He made sure to knock and wait for her call before he came in, shutting the door behind himself.

"Merlin!" Gwen said, in obvious relief. She had a blonde-haired child perched on her lap, and her other two children attacked Merlin's legs. He reached down to ruffle their hair absent-mindedly, shooting Gwen a look that told her they needed to talk.

Luckily for him, Gwen understood and quickly sent her children to play on the other side of her room. Merlin, at her motion, sat down at the table with her and began speaking urgently. Once he had explained what had happened with Freya, and Gwen had recovered from the shock of it, he moved onto what he really needed to know.

"Be truthful Gwen – do you plan on having any more children?"

Gwen shook her head immediately. "I'm not going through all of that pain again," she said firmly. "And these three are a handful as it is."

Merlin smiled. So far, at least, this plan had potential. "I need to ask you a favour then."

Gwen was one step ahead of him. "Is there some kind of spell to give Freya my child-bearing ability?"

Merlin nodded. "It's painless, no side-effects, and I have enough magic to do it."

Gwen waved her hand at him. "Then what are you waiting for?"

* * *

_Four months later_

There was definitely something. She couldn't quite believe it. She couldn't allow herself to believe it.

But she had been having these bouts of nausea again and her stomach was swollen and she had been gaining weight steadily…

Trembling, she asked Merlin to check for her, expecting to have her hopes dashed. But they weren't.

"I don't know how you did it," Freya said in wonder. "But you did. I love you."

"I love you too," Merlin murmured, rubbing his hands on the new life they had created.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: any prompts or reviews so I know people like me?


	36. Trick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 36
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: It's a bit gory towards the end I guess? I don't know, I'm really good with gore so I'm never sure what makes other people feel sick and stuff :)
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "An evil sorceress somehow takes on Freya's form and tries to use it against Merlin. Merlin sees through the trick and is very angry."

Merlin had just finished collecting all of the herbs that Gaius needed to replenish his supplies. It had taken him almost four hours to gather everything, because they were scattered throughout the entire forest, and he was hurrying back. It was getting late and it was rather dark, and Merlin just wanted to sleep.

He nearly tripped over a branch that was lying on the ground and managed to save the bag of herbs from being crushed just in time. He opened it quickly to check none had been damaged and when he looked up, was greeted by Freya.

"Merlin!" she cried. "Oh, I've finally found you!"

Merlin took a few steps back cautiously. He had felt a swell of joy when he saw her, but he had learnt quickly that good things seldom happened to him. "Who are you?" he asked suspiciously.

Freya's smile faltered. "It's me," she said uncertainly. "Don't you remember me?"

"You're not her," Merlin growled. He forced his magic to focus in on the woman in front of him. It saw through the glamour immediately, and wiped it away. Left behind was a middle-aged woman, a little shorter than him but with a ferocious scowl that made her look several times taller.

"Fine," the woman spoke in a viciously low voice. "You saw through it."

"How dare you use her form?" Merlin advanced towards the woman, his breathing coming fast and furious now.

The woman shrugged; her nonchalance infuriated Merlin. This was the woman whom he had loved, for Heaven's sake. "I thought I'd pretend to be her back from the dead, you'd be so happy you'd take me back to the castle and I could wipe out Arthur Pendragon."

"Sorry, but your plan's been foiled," Merlin muttered. He gave the woman no warning as his eyes flashed bright gold, and sent her flying backwards into a tree. He walked over to her slowly, waiting for her to crack her eyes open. If he left her, she'd die slowly and painfully, but there was always the worry that she could somehow find enough power to magically heal herself.

Merlin clenched his hand into a fist and twisted his wrist around slowly. The woman's spine cracked as it was twisted in half, all of the vertebrae breaking apart and her internal organs sliced and cut apart. The woman screamed in pain until she finally gave her last breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: tricksy hobbitses


	37. Ally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 37
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: So sorry for the lack of recent updates! My laptop broke over Christmas and I only just got it back (yay!) so now I'll be able to do my usual weekly updates! I hope you all had a great Christmas, or whatever holidays you celebrated, and Happy New Year! What are your New Years Resolutions?
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "Morgana is the reason the knights found Freya. Morgana dreamt about Freya and the events surrounding her death. After a great deal of internal debate she decides to place the greater good above Merlin's happiness and tells Arthur where to search for the druid girl. She believes that she is directly responsible for the death of Merlin's love and spends the most of her life after that time convinced that if she had helped Merlin save Freya that he would never have turned against magic. Later, during her evil years, she encounters the woman who cursed Freya and kills the witch for costing her a valuable ally."

_A great, black, winged cat prowled through the cobbled streets of the lower town. It was seeking its prey, people, and only a few seconds later it stumbled upon a man and woman, having a late night courting session. The woman screamed briefly before the cat chewed on her throat, and the man was silent too as one of the cat's claws ripped open his stomach and his intestines tumbled out._

_Then, not five minutes later, the cat had turned to a petite girl, shivering in the cold night air. With her arms wrapped around herself to protect her modesty, she hurried back into the castle through a side entrance and into the catacombs. Immediately she pulled a ragged, torn dress over her head and crouched down by a lit candle, and began to cry._

Morgana woke with a start. "Gwen!" she cried out. Her maid was staying in the antechamber for the night as her father had gone out of town, and Morgana didn't want her to be by herself with a killer on the loose.

"Yes, Morgana?" Gwen appeared in the doorway of the antechamber in her nightgown. Once she saw Morgana's pale face, she ran in and sat down on the edge of her bed. "Another nightmare?"

Morgana nodded, and then spoke frantically. "I saw what's doing the killing – it's a girl!"

"A girl? That's nonsense, Morgana, those poor people have been killed by some beast." Being friends with Merlin had certain advantages, such as knowing the exact details of any death or illness.

"She turns into this giant cat thing and storms around and I know where she's staying!" Morgana nearly shouted at her friend in her desperation. "Please, Gwen, believe me."

"I do, I do," Gwen reassured her. "I know your nightmares tell the truth. We should go and tell Arthur, now."

"Are you sure?"

The warning bells started to toll. The two girls looked at each other – someone had been killed. "Definitely," Gwen said.

* * *

"In the catacombs?" Arthur asked incredulously. "How did she get down there?"

"I don't know, but she's down there," Morgana blurted. "And she turns into this cat thing."

It took a bit of convincing, but eventually Arthur agreed to go down, purely because Morgana had been able to give an accurate description of the two who had been killed that night. She went back to her bedchamber, with Gwen accompanying her, and fell back into a fitful sleep at Gwen's persuading.

_Merlin was carrying the girl who had transformed into the cat, through the forests, down to a lake._

_Merlin cried as the girl passed._

_The boat was on fire._

_Merlin remembered kissing her._

Morgana awoke for the second time that night, this time due to a harsh knock at her door. Gwen was already on her feet and answering it to Arthur, who stepped in and bowed his head respectfully. "Thank you, Morgana. Thanks to you, Camelot is safe from harm."

"You killed her?" Morgana asked numbly. If her latest dream was true – and she was quite certain it was – then this girl meant something to Merlin, and she couldn't bear to hurt her friend in such a way.

"We had to."

* * *

**Four years later**

She recognised the smell of magic around the old woman as soon as she encountered her in the forest. "Morgana Pendragon," the witch cackled, clapping her hands together in delight.

"Who are you?" Morgana asked suspiciously, having no idea whose side this woman was on.

The woman waved her hand dismissively. "Who am I? Not important. But you…you are a marvel, my girl. I only managed small curses and I'm meant to be powerful, so I can't imagine how powerful you are!"

The woman was stroking Morgana's ego, and genuinely it seemed, so she allowed the crone to continue. "What curses have you managed?" she asked curiously. She was always on the look-out for new curses that she could use on her enemies.

"My best, oh, that was on a girl. I would feel bad but…" The woman spat on the ground. "She killed my son. For no reason. So I had to curse her. I made her turn into this big, black, winged panther at night!" The woman cackled and Morgana's blood began to boil. "So she had to kill for all eternity! Last I heard, she was dead." The woman spat again. "Serves her right."

The witch had barely finished her sentence when Morgana's eyes flashed and the woman fell to the ground, her heart ripped from her chest and lying next to her. Morgana stared at the woman with pure anger; this was the woman who had led to Freya's death, and consequently, Merlin turning against her. She was sure that was the main reason that he had.

This was the woman who had cost her a valuable ally; Morgana just wished that she could have drawn out her death a little longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I need to stop playing Neko Atsume


	38. Oops

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 38
> 
> Warning/s: none
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: according to my app i am now 19% fluent in German and 1% fluent in Dutch
> 
> Prompt: "Merlin and Freya babysit Arthur and Gwen's son." – Aithusa Vase (fanfiction.net)

"You're sure you're okay with this?" the Queen asked as she handed her son over to Freya. "I mean, we can always find someone else."

"It's fine," Freya exclaimed, cooing at Olwen. He was still young, barely a month old, and Freya's heart melted a little every time she saw him.

"Thank you," Gwen said gratefully. "I really have to go now to greet the visiting dignitaries, I should only be an hour."

"It's fine," Freya said again, rolling her eyes. "Merlin's just getting a book from the library, he'll be back soon. I can cope and I'm sure my husband can to." She practically had to propel the Queen from the doorway at that point.

"What are we going to do with you?" Freya asked pointlessly, rocking the baby in her arms. "Aren't you just the cutest thing?" She continued in this stream until Merlin returned with an armful of books, and she stopped out of embarrassment.

"Is it today we're babysitting Olwen?" he said in surprise.

Freya sighed in fond exasperation. "Yes, it is, and I thought you were only getting one book?"

Merlin had the grace to look slightly embarrassed. "Well, yes, but I got reading so…anyway, hello, Olwen." Carefully, he perched his books on a nearby table. "How old is he now?"

"Just a month," Freya said fondly. "Honestly, Merlin, you're becoming so forgetful lately."

"Yes, well, other things on my mind…" he trailed off as he started to flip open a book. "Funnily enough, those other things involve Olwen as well."

"What are these other things?" Freya asked suspiciously, cradling the baby to her. She supposed that one could take to mean by her words and tone that she thought Merlin was going to do some harm to this child, but that couldn't be further from the truth. In actual fact, her worry was that Merlin was planning to give the baby some sort of super protection (this wouldn't be so bad, if it wasn't for the fact that Merlin went slightly overboard and anyone with one of his protection spells ended up naïve from lack of danger).

Merlin paused. "You remember when Gwen nearly died during the birth?" he said hesitantly. At Freya's nod, he continued. "I used magic to restore the blood loss, if you remember, and to help Olwen survive."

"He couldn't breathe," Freya recalled.

Merlin nodded and bit his lip. "Well, you see…I think because of this, I may have accidentally given Olwen a little bit of magic."

Freya closed her eyes briefly. Then she opened them and fixed Merlin with a steely glare. "I thought you said it was dangerous to give infants magic?" she said through gritted teeth. This was so typically Merlin – she loved her husband, but sometimes he became wrapped up far too much in his own world. Just because he loved having magic from birth didn't mean everyone did. Plenty of druids didn't, and it had taken Freya a long time to revel in her gifts.

"I didn't know it would give him magic," Merlin protested. "And it's only dangerous because it can overload their system and developing brain. Which is why I didn't tell you before now, because it's usually less than a month before the effects are noticeable."

Freya sighed, rolled her eyes slightly. "Honestly, Merlin," she said, but her exasperated tone was outweighed by her fond tone. "So he is fine?"

 _Most likely,_ Merlin thought to himself. "Completely," he told Freya. "Of course, he may not have ended up having magic as I thought; it's rather a fifty-fifty chance."

"So now you're going to try to find out?" Freya asked, narrowing her eyes. "How?"

Merlin glanced up. "Well…I was going to cast a rather complex spell involving seeing into Olwen's soul to see if he had any touch of magic apart from my own that will have imprinted on him at birth, but I'm not going to do that anymore." He hopped up onto the edge of the table.

"Why not?"

"Well, it wasn't me who turned your hair pink," Merlin pointed out, grinning devilishly. Freya squawked and looked down at her hair, which had indeed turned a garish pink.

"Olwen," Freya squeaked indignantly, frowning amusedly. "Merlin, turn it back. And find a way to control Olwen's magic."

Merlin turned Freya's hair back to her usual chocolate brown with an easy flick of his fingers. "I suspect this isn't the first time he's been playing tricks," he said slowly. "Remember when the castle turned bright yellow and everyone blamed me?"

"I didn't," Freya said indignantly. "I knew you were innocent. I thought it was just one of the kids somewhere playing a prank and was too scared to own up afterwards."

"I think it was Olwen. And I think Olwen has been doing all the other things, like turning the kitchen cats different colours and moving plates around at feasts."

Realisation dawned in Freya's eyes. "All the strange things have happened over the past month," she breathed. "I never made the connection."

"Neither did I," Merlin responded cheerily, clearly amused by Olwen's talents. "He's not too powerful though, and he might grow out of it. Of course, if he wants to learn magic when he's older, we can teach him then."

"Is this the kind of stuff you could do when you were born?" Freya asked curiously. She knew of Merlin instinctively moving things with his mind, but neither he or Hunith spoke of it much. Probably because it had been such a terrible time for them, having to hide such a large part of Merlin's identity.

"Kind of," Merlin replied absent-mindedly, pulling out a box of wooden blocks that he kept for practicing next spells on. "I never really bothered with that stuff. I just moved things to tidy up, help my Mum, once I turned a cow purple when I was feverish…but we never really recognised the ability of my magic until later." He shrugged as he grabbed five blocks from the box and placed them on the floor, sitting down in front of them. He motioned for Freya to join him.

Immediately, the blocks all turned different colours, and Olwen clapped his hands together delightedly. "Yep, definitely magic," Merlin confirmed.

* * *

"He hasn't been any trouble, has he?" Gwen asked anxiously when she returned with Arthur. She accepted Olwen gladly and kissed the top of his head.

"Apart from turning my hair pink, no," Freya said ruefully. Arthur stopped, struck dumb, at her words.

"He has magic?" Gwen asked in disbelief.

"I think I accidentally gave him some at birth," Merlin admitted sheepishly, showing the monarchs three of the blocks which were now charred, shimmering and made of water respectively.

"Our son has magic," Arthur muttered. "Brilliant."

"Oi," Merlin piped up. "Emrys in the room."

"Yeah, because your magic has never caused any problems, has it?" Arthur scowled. It was obvious which incident he was talking about immediately, and Freya had to stifle a giggle at the memory.

"It was one time, Arthur, and it wasn't like the clouds were orange forever, just a few days."

* * *

"I'm assuming that, as we both have magic, our children will have magic as well?" Freya asked that evening, as she drying herself after a bath. She wrapped the towel around herself as she wandered out from behind the screen, where the mirror was.

"Most likely." Merlin shrugged. "I don't see why not." He was curled up in an armchair, reading through a dense tome on regeneration spells.

"I'd like that," Freya said hesitantly. "I mean, though…you could still use magic during the birth, couldn't you, just to make sure?"

"Of course," Merlin said. "Though it does have its risks, of course."

"Is it less risky to use magic at conception?" Freya asked, her voice equal parts shy and sly.

"Yes, it is actually," Merlin said thoughtfully. "I assume you're asking for the sake of having a magical child, of course?"

"Of course," Freya replied in mock indignation. Merlin, as she had hoped, had seen straight through her. "I would never ask you to use magic during making love for any other purpose."

"Never," Merlin said, setting his book down. Freya took that as her cue to wander off, and seated herself sideways on his lap, allowing the towel to drop to the floor before she did.

"Of course, if it were to add some…pleasure into the mix, that would be purely coincidental," Freya whispered into Merlin's ear, pressing herself against him as much as she could.

"I imagine it would give quite a lot of pleasure, actually, but it's more for the child's sake, of course," Merlin agreed. He raised his eyebrows when she began to undo his breeches, kissing her softly.

"And if we were to use some possibly unnecessary magic as well…for pleasure rather than the greater good…it wouldn't matter, would it?" Freya asked rhetorically, knowing Merlin was not going to disagree with her.

Merlin's response was simply some unnecessary magic for pleasure rather than the greater good, and Freya couldn't deny that she wondered why she hadn't asked about this before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: terrible ending to a terrible fic yay
> 
> Leave me a review with your thoughts or prompts?


	39. Avalon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 39
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: MY BROTHER JUST GOT ACCEPTED INTO THE SAME SECONDARY SCHOOL I'M IN I COULD NOT BE HAPPIER RIGHT NOW
> 
> Prompt: "Merlin visits Freya in Avalon sometime after she gave him Excalibur." – Aithusa Vase

An hour wasn't enough time for either of them; what was an hour for two people in love when everyone else had years together? It wasn't fair, but it was the best that they could have, given the circumstances.

Freya was always careful to rest, eat and generally make herself as energetic as possible for their meetings, and Merlin would never dream of doing anything different either. When they finally met on the beach of the Lake of Avalon, they would spend the entire time talking about everything and anything that had happened. Freya was full of news about what was happening down in her kingdom, and Merlin was always able to provide a tale of some magical creature.

This time, though, was different. Between the single hour they got every month (and they only got that long because they were both extremely powerful magical beings with the power over life and death and Freya was the Queen of freaking Avalon) the times were lonely and difficult for them both.

Today, Merlin had a surprise for his lover. He waited for her to sit down and arrange her skirts comfortably, throwing her legs over his lap, before he handed her the small, coarse sack. She arched an eyebrow in a way that reminded him of Gaius (no, Gaius was not something he wanted to think about when he was with his girlfriend) before opening the sack and peering inside.

"Oh, it's pretty!" she said happily, although obviously a little confused. She pulled out the silver mirror, with an engraved back and a handle made to imitate ivy wrapping around a bough, and took an experimental look into it.

"We can talk to each other now," Merlin said quietly, his heart about to burst out of his chest. "I enchanted them – oh, I got one for myself as well – and now we can use them to see each other and talk, even when we're apart."

Freya was silent for a few minutes, and then she glanced up, her eyes brimming with tears. "You mean we can just…do this all of the time?" she asked, whispering as if she couldn't believe it. Knowing what Merlin had gone through when he had discovered the spell, it was a mixture of ecstasy and anxiety.

"Well, not all of the time, I have work and you have a kingdom to run on a different plane of existence," Merlin pointed out. "But whenever one of us is available to talk, the mirrors will sense it; then they'll glow golden rather than silver and the other person will know."

"Merlin," Freya whispered, stroking the mirror. "This is the best gift ever."

Merlin shrugged. "I know my stuff," he said archly, kissing the side of her head. "We still need to keep these meetings, though. I really need to see you in person every now and then."

Freya swung her legs off his lap, lying down on the pebbley sand. Her skirt automatically rode up to mid-thigh. "What kind of things do you need to do with me in person?" she asked, grinning, beckoning him over.

Merlin grinned and did, in fact, join her. "A few things," he murmured, and leant down to kiss her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: now I have a totally weird and kind of disgusting image of Merlin and Freya going at it on the beach but Freya disappears when the hour's up so Merlin's just kind of thrusting into thin air


	40. Warning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 40
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: this is terrible
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 - "Merlin tries to stop Arthur from banishing Gwen by warning him of the pain that comes from losing the woman you love."

The castle was buzzing with news of the betrayal. Curious servants and lords alike tried to stop him as he ran past them, determined to get more gossip from the King's servant who must surely know something, but Merlin's sole intention was to get to Arthur and stop him from doing something stupid.

Gwen had been taken to the dungeons, he knew, to await her sentence. Arthur was said to be a mix of angry and destroyed, stomping around the main hall and alternately smashing his fist against the wall and having to squeeze his eyes shut so that the tears would not escape.

The guards knew Merlin so well that they did not even try to stop him from racing into the Main Hall, but merely stepped aside and uncrossed their spears. Merlin slowed his breathing as he shut the doors behind him, glancing around to spot Arthur.

He was sitting on one of the table used for feasts, his head in his hands. "Arthur," Merlin called, hurrying over to him. "Please, be sensible in what you do."

Arthur looked up. "Merlin. Why I am still surprised?" he spoke with a bitter amusement. "You always turn up like a bad penny."

"That's me," Merlin said awkwardly, and perched on the table next to Arthur. "Don't banish her, Arthur."

"Why shouldn't I?" Merlin had known Arthur for long enough that he could sense the muted anger in his tone, even though he was trying to hide it.

"You love her, don't you?" Arthur nodded. "Which makes this even more painful. But when you lose the love of your life, in whatever way…a part of you dies forever, you know."

"She has betrayed me," Arthur choked out.

"Yes, but you love her and she loves you," Merlin insisted. "You two…are so lucky with your love, and if you really allow one mistake to push it apart, you're an idiot. Because I am not lying when I say that if you lose her, you will never truly be happy again."

Arthur looked across at his manservant, who seemed to be having one of his 'wise' moments. He saw truth and pain and anguish in his blue eyes, and his heart stopped just for a second. He wanted to take his advice so badly, because now he could see the damage done to Merlin's heart, but he knew he could not.

He said as such to Merlin. "I am the King, and I cannot be seen to be weak-minded at all. And...keeping Gwen here in Camelot, that would be far more painful than never seeing her again. Ever."

Merlin nodded. "I understand, Arthur," he said softly. "But please – it will hurt more than you know, and it will never stop. And you'll never get used to the constant ache."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: leave me prompts?


	41. Suicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains suicide: please don't read if you could be triggered!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 41
> 
> Warning/s: suicide mentions, please don't read if you could be triggered!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: This is really terrible, I'm so sorry
> 
> Prompt: "On the anniversary of Freya's death, Merlin contemplates joining her in the afterlife. He is found by Arthur and the knights." – Aithusa Vase

Merlin had everything he needed. A knife, a lethal potion of Gaius's, some strawberries in his pocket (to give to Freya, of course) and a piece of parchment along with a quill and ink pot. If he was going to go from this world, he deserved to leave behind an explanation.

He had several ways he could do this. He had purposely climbed to the tallest tower in Camelot's castle so he could plunge off the edge, he had a knife to slice open his wrists, or he could swallow the vile tasting liquid in the bottle.

Before he could decide, he thought maybe he should write the note. He hardly knew where to begin: nobody, not even Gaius, knew exactly how much Freya meant to him, and the knights and Arthur didn't even know of her existence. Maybe he could start by explaining about her, and then go on talking about why he had been driven to such drastic action to meet her. He was about to put pen to paper when he heard rapid footsteps thudding up the tower.

Panicking, Merlin hastily swiped his materials to the side and covered them with his jacket, shivering in the cold night air. He didn't know who was coming – a guard, probably – but in any case, he didn't want anyone knowing. He would engage in polite conversation and then carry on with his plans once they had gone.

"Merlin!" came the cheerful voice of Gwaine. "Been looking for you." There was something odd about his tone, though, a kind of forced cheer to it that sounded nervous.

"Oh?" Merlin said politely, though now he was beginning to become anxious. The knight was never nervous about anything; was it possible that Gwaine knew Merlin was planning something? He quickly banished that thought; how could he know? He smiled when the usual band of knights followed behind him, and surprisingly, so did Arthur.

"The guards said you came up here," Arthur said. He was a lot less subtle than Gwaine (which was an impressive feat indeed) and his anxiety shone clear through his tone.

"In fact, they came to find us and tell us you were up here," Leon clarified, sharing a meaningful glance with the others.

The anxiety seeped back into his stomach. "Why?" he asked, still acting as nonchalant as he could. He resisted the urge to check that his jacket was covering everything, but knew that would only be suspicious. He felt rather vulnerable with him seated on the ground, and the knights towering above him.

"They just thought we should know," Elyan put in, moving to sit by Merlin. The warlock had mixed emotions about this: whilst it was less intimidating, especially with the other knights following Elyan's examples, they were too close to him and his materials for comfort.

"Oh," Merlin said again, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. He scratched at the inside of his wrist nervously, unaware that everyone was watching the action.

"It's cold," Percival said. "You should put your jacket on." He leant forward to pick up the jacket but Merlin jerked forwards anxiously, shaking his head.

"What's under your jacket?" Arthur asked, in a surprisingly gentle tone. He tried to make eye contact with his servant, but Merlin was unwilling to do anything but stare at the floor. The King sighed; this was only confirming his fears. When the guards had interrupted his sleep to inform him that his manservant had been spotted heading to the highest tower, equipped with a knife and a bottle of a vile concoction, he had rushed to gather his closest friends and they'd all rushed up.

Merlin thought nobody had seen him, but evidently the guards had and he hadn't bothered to conceal what he was carrying on his way up. His mind had gone into overdrive with this; what to do? He didn't want to tell them about Freya now – he was only comfortable with them learning about her after his death, when he didn't have to see their pitying faces and Gwen's tears at what he'd gone through.

"Merlin," Arthur said again, a little more impatient this time. "We know. We don't know why, but we do know that something's up."

Again, Merlin refused to say anything. Seeing that Arthur was becoming impatient from anxiety, Gwaine took over. "Mate, the guards saw you, and they told us. We know what you're planning; we want to know how we can help."

Something inside Merlin snapped at the knight's unusually gentle tone. "Can you bring people back from the dead?" he asked peevishly, still refusing to look up.

"Well, no," Gwaine admitted.

"Then there's nothing. Just let me do it."

He heard a sigh to his right, but from which knight he couldn't say. Then there was a rustling as someone pulled his jacket from his supplies, and a muted gasp from everyone.

"You seem pretty determined, mate," Gwaine said, trying to make light of the situation. There was a tinkle as he picked up the glass bottle. "I mean, belladonna's pretty strong stuff."

"It needs to be," Merlin said softly. He had so much magic inside him that he needed to be able to overpower it. "I need to make sure it goes right."

"Why?" Arthur asked, his voice full of desperation. "What could make you want to do this?"

Merlin considered not answering for a second, but eventually the silence dragged on for so long that he felt he had to say something. "Five years," he said quietly, finally looking up. "Today. Since Freya died."

An involuntary wince ran through him as he said her name, and he busied himself with shrugging his jacket back on when Percival handed it over.

"Who was Freya?" Elyan asked, shuffling a little closer.

Merlin sighed. Maybe he should tell his friends. "She was a druid girl."

"And you liked her?" Arthur asked, in a one which suggested he meant "of course you fell in love with a druid girl of all people Gods Merlin why can't you just like one of the serving girls".

"A lot," Merlin confirmed. "We were going to find somewhere to live together. She didn't have a good past. But someone misunderstood her – they thought she was a danger because she had the druid mark, even though she never used magic – and killed her." He decided to not tell the full story; he didn't need Arthur's guilt complex right now.

"That's terrible," said Percival, softly, to his right.

"I miss her too much," Merlin said morosely. "I want to join her."

"This isn't the way," Arthur said gently. He carried on, but Merlin was no longer listening. He was planning. While the others were here, he wouldn't be able to join Freya. She might be upset at his actions, but he knew she would really be happy that he was there. So he needed to get the others to leave him again.

"I know it isn't the way," Merlin said suddenly, cutting Arthur off. "I acted rashly." His voice was wooden and stiff, but nobody else seemed to notice. What happened next was a blur: the knights congratulating him, Arthur helping him to his feet, and the door to the stairwell being opened.

Merlin allowed the knights to go first, following them. Then, with a flash of his eyes, he slowed time and rushed back to the turret. He bounded up gratefully, standing on the edge, and let time resume itself. The knights realised after a second that he wasn't there, but by then Merlin was already falling.

* * *

"Merlin," Freya said sadly. "Your destiny."

"You're more important," Merlin whispered, taking her hand. Freya smiled, still sadly, and nuzzled her head into his chest.

"I love you," she murmured.

"You too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: sad ending :( leave me some more prompts?


	42. Story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 42
> 
> Warning/s: None that I can think of.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: I had a friend over yesterday and it was the best day of my life I'm so happy
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "Merlin tells the story of the Lady of the Lake, adapting it to sound more like a legend and trying not to reveal his true connection to the Lady."

"Got any good stories, Merlin?" Gwaine asked, poking at the fire. Merlin always had a variety of strange tales up his sleeve, mainly due to Gaius and his extensive reading, but also partly due to his old experiences in Ealdor and Camelot alike.

"I don't know…depends on what you feel like," Merlin replied, sorting out his bed roll.

"Something nice," Gwaine said decisively. "Not about monsters and stuff…how about one that has a pretty maiden in it?"

The other knights groaned, but Merlin smiled a little. "I think I know one."

"Go on then," Gwaine grinned, looking like a small boy who had just been given the greatest gift of his life.

"Well, there was once a girl, who was quite remarkable although nobody took much notice of her. She was born into a small community and was taught magic at a young age, and by the time she was becoming a woman, she was quite accomplished." Merlin saw Arthur stiffen at the mention of magic but ploughed on with his story anyway.

"Her parents died, quite tragically, and knowing no other way, she went to the druids for help. They took her in for a short while, but eventually she decided that it was time to make her own way in the world. So she set off but not long afterwards, she was attacked by a man much bigger than her.

"She panicked and, not knowing any other way, fended herself with magic. But she was in such a state that she ended up killing the man, even though that wasn't her intention to do that. And in revenge, the man's mother tracked her down. And to punish her for what she'd done, even though it was in no way her fault, she cursed her to turn into a great, black cat at night and kill for the rest of her life."

"Hang on," Arthur interrupted. "We had a great, black cat in Camelot that attacked at night."

"Yes, we did," Merlin said softly. "Her name was Freya and she was actually a girl."

"I killed her?" Arthur asked, in a small voice.

"Yep. Not sure why you'd care considering she was a sorceress." The knights exchanged wide-eyed glances at Merlin's bitter tone but before anyone could react, Merlin was sweeping on with his story.

"Arthur found her one night and stabbed her in the shoulder; the cut caused her to revert back to her human form and someone found her, someone who cared for her very much." Merlin cleared his throat suddenly. He hoped none of the knights had heard him say 'I' by accident. "He took her to a lake that he knew she would love, with mountains and some fields, the place she'd always wanted to live when she became married.

"They were going to run away together and get married and have a happy life. But she was cursed and he wasn't able to save her, because despite the fact that he was meant to be a brilliant man, he wasn't brilliant enough."

Silence followed Merlin's story, and then Gwaine cleared his throat. "Um, Merlin?"

There was a sniff, and then, "Yes?"

"How do you know that story?"

"Gaius told me it. He knew the person who saved her." He wasn't lying there, at least. He slipped into his bedroll and pushed his face into his arms, willing the betraying tears to go away.

"Goodnight," Arthur said finally, drawing an end to the conversation. He sensed the awkwardness in the air, as all those present did, and the feeling that perhaps Merlin wasn't telling them the whole story.

He had laid his bedroll down right next to Merlin's, and about half an hour later, when he was sure that the knights were asleep and Merlin wasn't, judging by the shaking of his shoulders, he leaned across and whispered three simple words, "You tried, Merlin."

Arthur wasn't expecting a reply, so he was startled when Merlin's thick voice rang out in the night air. "I love her. Trying isn't enough."

"Trying is all you can do."

"This is the lake, you know."

"The lake where?"

"Yeah. That's why I told the story. Because we're here. And because she was fantastic and beautiful and the best person in the world."

Heavy, thick silence. "You tried."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: well that ending went away from the prompt slightly, sorry!
> 
> Let me know if you have any more prompts that I can only vaguely follow!


	43. Hormones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 43
> 
> Warning/s: I swear in the disclaimer
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin. And I don't know shit about pregnancy
> 
> A/N: yo yo yo back w/ another chapter
> 
> Prompt: "Highly hormonal pregnant Freya." – Aithusa Vase

"Merlinnnnnn," Freya whined, pulling the covers up to her chin. Despite it being the middle of summer, she was perpetually cold now that she was pregnant. "Merrrrrrrliiiiiiiiiiin."

"Yes, love?" Merlin appeared at the top of the stairs, clutching a thick book on transformation. "What's wrong?"

"I missed you," she said pitifully, and extended her arms in a request for a hug. Merlin accepted and kissed the top of her head, when Freya suddenly pushed him away. "Go 'way," she sulked, rolling over onto her side. "Don't want you. You're the one who got me into this situation."

Merlin smiled fondly at his wife. He was well used to her mood swings by now. "I'll come back in a couple of hours to see how you're feeling," he called over his shoulder.

"Nooooooooo!" came the reply. "Never return."

* * *

"Do I have to go to the banquet?" Freya asked petulantly, sitting on the edge of her bed. She was still clad in her nightgown, having refused for several days now to dress properly.

Merlin nodded. "The visiting nobles are here, we have to go. Only for a couple of hours, though." His wife sighed and slid off the bed, rubbing the bump protruding from her nightgown. She glared down at it, poking it lightly.

"It better be a girl," she told Merlin crossly. "After all this."

In the end, Freya made herself respectful and even did her hair up. All the while, she muttered to Merlin threateningly about what she was going to do to him if this child wasn't a girl, and Merlin was glad to leave. He could only hear so many various forms of torture before becoming slightly bored.

The banquet was as boring as ever, and Freya kept Merlin occupied by happily telling him about all the wonderful advantages of having a son. "But I thought you wanted a girl earlier?" he asked her, confused. "You were angry about it."

"Well, now I want a son," Freya beamed. "Oh look, everyone's dancing? Can we go now?"

Merlin nodded, still bemused by the rapid change in his wife's moods, and both of hem quietly slipped out. Freya took off her shoes once they were outside the doors and skipped all the way back to their rooms, complaining steadily but cheerfully about the ache in her ankles.

"I'm glad you're feeling better," Merlin yelled once he caught up with her, shouting so she could hear him from across the room.

"I'm not happy," Freya screeched from upstairs. "I'm crying, Merlin! Why are you so terrible at being a husband?"

Merlin sighed heavily and rubbed his face. This was going to be a long pregnancy.

* * *

Freya had been stomping around all day, scaring several of the more timid servants around the castle and alarming Merlin so much when she returned that he dropped the bowl of strawberries he had conjured for her.

"Oh," she gasped, her hard expression falling when she saw what he'd done. "You made me something even though I've been horrible lately."

"It's not your fault," Merlin reminded her gently. "It's because of the baby."

* * *

Later that night, Merlin woke up to find Freya straddling his hips. "What are you doing?" he asked sleepily, yawning. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Freya murmured, reaching down to his lap. Suddenly it dawned on Merlin that he was trouserless and that Freya had shed her nightdress.

"Freya, you don't…"

"Don't tell me I'm not up to it," she huffed. "Just pleasure me, the Gods know that I need it."

Five minutes later, she was weeping on Merlin's shoulder because "I've gained so much weight!"

Merlin felt an odd mixture of frustration, despair, sympathy and disappointment at that moment.

* * *

"I think I'll be having this child soon," Freya mused as she ate her breakfast that morning.

"Thank the Gods," Merlin muttered.

"What?"

"I said 'I can't wait'."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: anyone know any good animes?


	44. Statue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 44
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: i have so many other fanfiction chapters to write but i just started watching the walking dead so
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot02 – "The large statue of the black winged cat at the top of the stairs reminds Merlin of Freya. It is hard not to notice how much the statue seems to affect him."

"How come I've never seen this statue before?" Elyan said curiously, patting the large, black, winged cat made of some kind of gleaming stone. It was perched rather precariously on the top of a bannister.

"Don't know," Gwaine replied, crunching an apple. "Nice, though." He raised his voice and shouted over his shoulder: "Hey, Merlin, come here a second!" He took another bite of his apple and raised his eyebrows at Elyan, waiting for the slight manservant to appear.

He did in record time, clutching one of Arthur's boots with a smudge of brown polish on his cheek. "Yeah?" he asked, glancing over at the statue quickly. Elyan frowned – it seemed almost as if Merlin had flinched.

Gwaine didn't appear to have noticed. "You've been here for as long as anything, right? How long has this thing been here?"

This time, Elyan was sure that Merlin had jumped a little as if he had been shot with a bow and arrow. "About three years," he said uneasily. "It was, um, it was put up after this big winged cat thing was attacking people in Camelot and Arthur – well, Arthur killed her."

"Her?" Gwaine questioned. "How do you know that?"

Merlin paled, and bit his lip. "After Arthur stabbed her, she turned into a girl, and it turned out that she had been cursed by some witch to turn into that creature and she couldn't help it," he said in a rush. "I have to go back to my chores now." With that, he turned abruptly on his heel and strode back to where he had come from.

"Don't you think Merlin was acting kind of weirdly?" Gwaine said to Elyan, taking a thoughtful bite of his apple, which was nearly down to the core now.

"Definitely," Elyan agreed. "Let's keep an eye on him."

When the two knights arrived at their daily training session, they headed for Arthur and told him quickly what had happened and if Merlin had seemed alright. Leon and Percival, who were already standing with him, were just as baffled as their prince. They all cast surreptitious glances over to the manservant, who was sharpening swords and seemed fine now.

Without being prompted, Arthur said lowly, "We better keep an eye on him," and everyone present agreed.

It didn't take them long to realise that it was the cat statue that was causing Merlin's occasional bouts of tension and sometimes melancholy. The question was how to deal with it; well, rather, why it was a problem.

The problem was dealt with efficiently. Arthur soon found a dignitary just outside of Camelot who they weren't on the best of terms with – not quite enemies yet but they could be soon – so he sent the cat statue as a peace offering and a promise of alliance.

So, that solved two problems: a happier Merlin and a happier ally.

And only a couple of days after it had gone, Merlin hesitantly brought up the topic over lunch. He set down Arthur's plate and as he was pouring some wine, blurted out, "Where did that cat statue thing go?"

"What?" Arthur asked, mainly to buy himself some time. It wasn't dignified to speak with his mouth full, after all.

"That cat thing, the statue, that was on the stairs," Merlin explained, clearly uncomfortable. "It's gone."

"Oh, yeah, that thing," Arthur said dismissively. He took a swig of wine and cleared his throat. "I got rid of it because I noticed it was freaking you out a bit."

As he had predicted, Merlin fumbled with the clothes he was holding and inhaled sharply. "What do you mean?" he tried to ask casually, but Arthur easily picked up on the hidden tones of paranoia. He had known Merlin too long to ignore it now.

"You just acted weirdly around it," Arthur said, pushing his plate away from him. He suddenly didn't have an appetite anymore. "Come sit down, Merlin."

"What?" The manservant looked up nervously and swallowed. Arthur nodded to the chair next to him and waited for him to hesitantly sit down.

"Gwaine told me what you told him," he started quietly. "I don't want to pry but…I didn't know that bit about her turning back into a girl."

Merlin shook his head, refusing to meet Arthur's eyes. "It just never came up. I mean, it wasn't like I was going to casually walk into your room the next day and tell you that."

Arthur nodded. "I understand…I just…hell, I'm not good with my words, Merlin, you know that." Merlin looked up a little. "But I am your friend and I don't want you to suffer in silence."

Merlin nodded. "She was called Freya. I was heading back to the castle after it happened and I saw her. She was bleeding and she told me that she had been cursed; she was attacked by a man and in fright she fought back, and accidentally killed him. His mother cursed her to become this cat thing at night and kill as punishment, even though it wasn't her fault. She died soon after I found her but I took her somewhere that she liked to die."

Arthur's voice was soft when he next spoke. "Where did you take her?"

"A lake. Mountains in the distance, flowers, grass, where she always wanted to live when she was married."

"You got to know her a lot during the time she was dying," Arthur said hesitantly, curious but not wanting to push Merlin too far. Despite how he acted, he harboured a deep affection for his manservant.

Merlin smiled bitterly. "She lived in Ealdor when we were younger. We were really good friends ever since we were small; the last time I saw her was when I left to come here, to Camelot."

"Oh." The words that Arthur had been forming in his head escaped through his ears. "I'm sorry, Merlin. I am so deeply sorry for your loss."

Merlin shrugged awkwardly. "I'm going to get on with my chores," he said, but somehow it was more of a question.

Arthur nodded to give Merlin his permission and watched his manservant stand up and grab a pile of clothes. He settled back in his seat. Somehow he sensed that this friend of Merlin's was more than a friend, but it wasn't his place to question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: this was terrible v sorry


	45. Memory II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 45
> 
> Warning/s: none?
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: idk what's going on downstairs but i can hear drilling and my dad swearing at my dog so
> 
> Prompt: The Forrest of Fanfic requested for a continuation of 'Memory' a year on.

It hadn't taken long for Morgana to run excitedly to Gwen to announce Merlin and Freya's relationship, and then of course Gwen had told Arthur, and then when Arthur went to tell the knights, everyone else found out.

Merlin had taken the most sensible course of action and, along with Freya, hidden for the entire day. Eventually, he realised he was going to have to face people, and reluctantly he subjected himself to days of questioning (weeks in Gwaine's case) and one very socially-stunted king sticking his nose in where it shouldn't be stuck.

Now, a year later, Merlin was no longer being interrogated every second of the day, Freya was free to do her work without any of the maids staring at her, and Arthur had learnt his boundaries. (Admittedly, it had taken several lectures from Gwen and quite a few exasperated yells of 'Arthur! Get out!' from Merlin and/or Freya, usually with one of them cowering behind a changing screen, but he had improved and that was of course what mattered.)

However, he was still subject to Arthur asking him how Freya was every day ('Arthur, you could go and ask her yourself') and Gwen offering him various items from before she was Queen ('I don't know what shade of purple suits Freya best, Gwen, I really don't.'). It was sweet how much his friends cared for him and his partner, but at the same time it was immensely annoying.

Which was why Merlin decided, with Freya's solid agreement, not to tell anyone when he and Freya became betrothed. There would be tears from Gwen and Morgana, persuasions to go out to the tavern from Gwaine, awkward sentiments from Arthur and strangely personal congratulations from the knights. Merlin wasn't entirely comfortable with any of those things, and Freya looked like she was about to pass out when Merlin told her of the consequences.

Everything was going surprisingly well. Nobody had spotted everything, it wasn't considered unusual when Arthur decided to give Merlin and Freya some chambers in the castle befitting two servants of nobles (which technically didn't exist and Arthur had just made up because he was fond – uh, definitely _not_ fond of Merlin) and both Merlin and Freya managed to keep their mouths shut.

The problem came five months later, when Freya threw up for eighteen mornings in a row, didn't have her monthly cycle for two months, and started gaining weight very quickly. At first, Merlin identified it as rich food. Then as an infection. Then as a deficiency, in something that he wasn't quite sure of. At that point, Freya snapped and yelled, "Merlin, I'm pregnant!"

Merlin, rather flushed, replied quietly, "Yes, I know. I just didn't want to say it."

Freya had to walk around the castle a few times to calm down after that.

Unbeknownst to the both of them, someone was passing by their doors at the exact moment that Freya chose to shout out her pregnancy. That someone was the worst someone it could be: Gwaine. It was fairly obvious what was going to happen next.

Gwaine told Arthur and Percival. Arthur told Gwen who told Morgana, and Percival told Elyan who told Leon who told Arthur who already knew and excitedly gossiped about it with his most senior knight. Um, no, wait a minute – he definitely did not because that would be very unkingly and unknightly.

Freya, blissfully unaware that her condition had spread to hers and Merlin's friends, went into work the next morning in a loose dress (that could now be qualified as just a dress) and went around her work with cheerful caution, not bending down too often and being careful not to put too much pressure on her stomach.

Merlin, in much the same manner, went to Arthurs chambers the next morning in a state of jittery anxiety. He barely focused on his chores, doing them automatically, his mind running a mile a second with questions about Freya and pregnancy. As such, he didn't notice any of the stares that the King and Queen were directing at him, and didn't even seem to notice when Arthur dropped a piece of cheese on his lap and then catapulted a spoon towards Gwen in his hurry to clean himself up.

"Morgana's been looking at me weirdly all day," Freya confessed when she got back to their chambers that day. "I think she's noticed the weight gain."

"Arthur and Gwen haven't said anything." Merlin flopped on the bed next to his betrothed. "So maybe she just thinks you look different."

"Probably," Freya agreed, and began to drift off into a light doze. Pregnancy was tiring. She didn't even want to think about childbirth. Merlin got up to start making their dinner, and she could hear his clanging and muttering as she catnapped. (No pun intended. Well, maybe a little one.)

Their peace was interrupted by a loud knock at the door which was shortly followed by Gwaine, clearly drunk, staggering in.

"Gwaine," Merlin reprimanded without looking up from the stew. "What have I said about knocking?"

"It's not just the thought that counts."

"Very good. Now, what is it?"

"I was just wondering," Gwaine said with surprising dignity, considering how much mead he had consumed, "why you didn't tell us." He drew himself up and arranged his face into what he hoped was a hurt expression. Freya, only half-listening from her slumber, opened her eyes at this point and wondered if Gwaine was constipated.

"Tell you what?" Merlin said dully, expecting a drunken ramble. Last time Gwaine had come in intoxicated he had announced to Merlin that he was hurt, because Merlin had never told him his true identity of a sheep clothed in human skin.

"That Freya—" a drunken gesture interrupted his sentence – "has a child!" His voice dropped to a dramatic whisper. "In her belly!"

Freya yelped and rolled off the bed at this point. "How did you know?" she yelled, throwing a pillow at Merlin. "He knows!"

"I know," Merlin replied, standing stock still in shock. The stew began to burn onto the bottom of the pot.

"I do know," Gwaine confirmed. "And the others know now as well."

"The castle knows?" Freya said weakly, one hand at her stomach.

"No, the castle doesn't know. The king and queen and knights know."

"How do you know?"

"Because you know."

"Enough!" Merlin finally yelled. "How did you…find out?"

"I heard you talking," Gwaine said happily, smiling at them.

Freya rested her head against the bed frame. Merlin took the stew off the heat and eventually told Gwaine to get out.

"I think we need to make a formal announcement," he said weakly, after two minutes of pure silence. Freya looked at him and sighed, then nodded.

"Do you think we'll ever have secrets?" she asked suddenly, five minutes later.

"No," Merlin decided after a couple of minutes' thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: wow this was terrible lmao
> 
> any prompts?


	46. Tristan and Isolde

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 46
> 
> Warning/s: None.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Merlin.
> 
> A/N: Sorry for the massive hiatus – I had exams coming up so I wanted to do all those before I got back into fanfiction, and then I watched The Walking Dead and got massively into that but now we’re back to Merlin! I have so many prompts for this story (like half a notebook) but please give me more if you want because there are many chapters to write and let’s be honest, Freylin is worth it <3 and if you read any of my other stories let me assure you that I will be updating them soon as well. Love you all!
> 
> Prompt: ruapilot2 – “Merlin seemed to know exactly what to do when interacting with Tristan after Isolde's death. Everyone else seemed to leave any exchange with the devastated man much worse for wear. Someone decides to find out why.”

 

“He’s distraught,” Arthur said, quietly to Merlin. “I don’t think anyone can reach him.”

Merlin glanced over at Tristan. He was slumped against a tree, holding a scrap of Isolde’s shirt like his life depended on it. “Losing your loved one is a terrible thing,” Merlin agreed, a little sadly.

“It’s late. We should all go to sleep,” Arthur replied, though he eyed Merlin a little curiously at his remark.

Merlin nodded and heaped some wood onto the fire, so that it would die down a little and not give off any smoke that could give away their position. He settled down with the others, but unlike the knights, he wasn’t snorting within five minutes due to the exhausting day. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, and it was keeping him awake.

He opened his eyes with a sigh and scanned the clearing. Then he realised what was wrong – there was an empty bedroll where Tristan was meant to be.

Frowning, Merlin sat up slowly, stretching. Tristan was still hunched over by the tree, clutching the scrap of fabric.

He stood up as quietly as he could and made his way over to the grieving man. Tristan didn’t look up or even seem to notice him as he approached. Merlin crouched down next to Tristan and reached underneath his neckerchief. He always wore it so that the small, tan, leather pouch he continuously wore around his neck would go unnoticed. Now, he reached into it and pulled out a lock of deep brown hair.

He held it in front of Tristan and said softly, “Freya,” knowing that he would understand what he was saying. Tristan didn’t react as far as Merlin could tell, but he carried on regardless.

“She was abused so many times,” Merlin continued. “And at first, she was afraid of me, afraid to love, afraid to get close to anyone.

“She was brought to Camelot in a cage. I saw her and immediately I felt sorry for her. Gaius was with me and he told me that she must have magic, and she had been captured. He said to leave her.

“But I couldn’t. I came back later that night and managed to get her out. I brought her back to the castle and hid her in some of the lesser-used underground rooms.

“She was very shy but eventually she became less timid as I brought her food and candles, and kept her company. We fell in love very quickly and we decided to escape together. She wanted to live by a lake, with some mountains, and fields.

“But the night that we planned to run away on, I learnt something terrible. At this time, there was a mysterious beast terrorising Camelot. It turned out that it was an oversized black panther with wings…and it was Freya.”

He saw Tristan’s head move towards him ever so slightly.

"She had been attacked a while ago by a man and in panic had accidentally killed him. His mother tracked her down and cursed her to turn into this thing so she would have to kill for all eternity.

“That night, Arthur stabbed her and she turned back into the Freya I knew. But she died later, in my arms. By a lake with mountains and fields.

“It hurt more than I could ever express for so long, and I couldn’t even show my true emotions to anyone but Gaius. It still hurts, there’s a constant ache in my chest – but it lessens over time and your heart heals. You may never love anyone else but their memory is enough.”

Merlin stood up. “It’s not easy. But it gets easier. And I know how you feel, and I know that Isolde wouldn’t want you to sit here, mourning her.” He headed back to the fire and settled down again, placing the hair back in the pouch and tucking it securely under his neckerchief. He didn’t dare look back at Tristan for fear his heart would shatter all over from the memory.

* * *

Gwaine was the first one awake the next morning, and immediately he noticed that Tristan was missing. He hurriedly woke the others and just as they were about to form a search party, Tristan appeared from the woods, holding a stack of dry twigs to his chest.

“Thought I’d do my bit,” he said, so cheerfully that everyone was taken aback. Merlin took a few of the twigs and started to assemble a fire. Tristan knelt down next to him to help, and Gwaine was the only one who saw Tristan clap Merlin on the back and thank him.

* * *

“I didn’t do anything,” Merlin insisted. “I just told him that Isolde would want him to get on with his life, and avenge her.”

“You must have done more,” Gwaine pressed him.

“I didn’t.” Merlin switched his attention to the stew he was making hurriedly, hoping Gwaine would just swallow the lie.

He didn’t, of course.

* * *

Gwaine laid awake that night, suspecting that if Merlin was going to do anything, it would be at night. He only had to wait for an hour before his patience was rewarded.

Merlin had been restless and distracted all day. Ever since talking to Tristan, his mind had been solely focused on Freya. They were, fortunately, close to the Lake of Avalon, so Merlin had decided that he would visit her with a few gifts.

When he was sure that everyone else was asleep Merlin sprang to his feet and crept out of the clearing. Once he judged that he was a good distance away and wouldn’t be heard, he broke into a jog.

He cupped his hands together and conjured up a bunch of strawberries, and placed them in his pocket along with the two candles and a small scroll of parchment, and quill.

Once he had reached the lake, he set the candles down on the sandy shore and ignited them both with a quick wave of his hand. He had learnt by now that whilst Freya could hear him when he talked, the same wasn’t replicated and she had to write her answers.

So he opened the scroll, placed the quill and strawberries inside and rolled it back up. With a graceful over-arm throw, he tossed the bundle into the middle of the lake. He wasn’t sure how, but somehow there seemed to be a kind of portal that took the things to Freya.

“I still love you, Freya,” Merlin started, sitting down next to the candles. “Even now. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move on, but that’s fine with me. I can’t wait until I get to join you, and hear your voice again. Gods, I need to see you again. You’re so beautiful, Freya – I wish you had never gone. I know it wasn’t your fault, but it kills me that you had to leave.”

Merlin fell silent for a few seconds. He had no idea that Gwaine was hiding, just behind him, and was mulling over what Merlin had just said with a steadily sinking heart.

Merlin smiled when the roll of parchment and quill bobbed back up to the surface, miraculously dry. With a wry smile, he noticed that the strawberries had gone, and were probably being enjoyed by Freya right that moment. He leaned forwards to collect the scroll. On it was scrawled, ‘I love you too and I cannot wait until you are with me’ in Freya’s small, neat hand.

Gwaine decided to leave when Merlin began sobbing. He didn't know everything, but he knew enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Nothing like some sadness to kick off your Saturday


	47. Lake

Chapter 47

Warning/s: none

A/N: I was watching the Olympic women's hockey last night (Great Britain vs Netherlands) and it turns out that my old hockey coach at my last school now coaches the Olympic team.

Pretty cool I guess. No big deal.

Prompt: Aithusa Vase: "BAMF!Freya (with lake magic)"

* * *

Truth be told, Merlin was heartily sick and tired of being ambushed by bandits.

It wasn't the way they tried to kill them; it was more their lack of originality. It was the same thing every single time, and Merlin would have to strategically drop branches and trip them over shrubbery because Arthur was too busy waving his sword around like he was doing ballet.

This time, Merlin was especially upset because they were right next to Lake Avalon, and Arthur had been planning to set up camp for the night, meaning that he could go sit by the lake while him and the knights were asleep and talk to Freya for a bit.

However, Arthur would in no way stick with that plan now they'd been attacked.

If you could call it an attack. It was rather lacklustre as far as bandits were concerned.

So Merlin occupied himself with trying to make various winds suddenly stir up and distract bandits, and stopping his friends from being killed with conveniently loose branches, when there was a massive roar from the lake.

Everyone turned to stare stupidly at the massive whirlpool that had suddenly emerged in the middle of the stretch of water, the bandits included. Arthur looked so bewildered that Merlin wanted to laugh, because he could see so clearly the play of emotions on the king's face; first confusion, then suspicion that this was magic, then back to confusion.

Merlin had a good idea of what was happening, and his suspicions were confirmed when Freya emerged from the whirlpool. She was more beautiful and iridescent than ever before, skin glowing blue and hair cascading down her back in loose curls. Her figure was complimented by a burgundy dress that ended at her knees.

Without hesitation, Freya began to stride along the top of the water, her feet hitting the liquid like it was a dirt path. She looked like a vengeful warrior, Merlin thought with a burst of pride. She looked bored by the proceedings, as if she dealt with this every day of the week (which maybe she did; Merlin didn't get the chance to visit her that often) and waved her hand as if swatting a fly.

One of the bandits shimmered around the edges and then faded out of reality, leaving everyone except Merlin staring at the space he had been with gaping mouths. (Okay, Merlin was kind of staring with a wide mouth, because that was some seriously impressive magic and he was so happy that Freya could do something like that.)

When she spoke, her voice was as sweet and soothing as it ever had been, but with an underlying tone of steel. "I could kill all of your miscreants where you stand, so I recommend that you run." Her final word was accompanied by a flash of gold that wrapped around her entire body, snaking around her limbs and encircling her head like a wreath of leaves. "Well?" she snapped, when nobody moved, stupefied by the raw power radiating off her.

As one, the bandits flowed back into the forest like water from oil, leaving the Camelotians standing bemused on the beach.

Despite his inherent suspicion of magic, Arthur knew that this woman had saved their lives, so he swallowed his misgivings and stepped forward to thank Freya instead.

She accepted his words with a nod of her head, smiling charmingly when it was her turn to speak.

"It was my pleasure, King Arthur and his Knights," she said softly. "Naturally I have my own reasons for saving you all; but those will have to remain my secrets, at least for the time being. Go on your way and do good."

She vanished just as soon as she had appeared, and none of the others seemed to notice the smile she shot in Merlin's direction as she went.

* * *

Arthur, comforted by the thought that they had some kind of 'magical lake goddess' on their side, decided to set up camp just a little farther than where they had originally suggested, still close enough to the lake that Merlin would be able to slip away easily.

Merlin volunteered for the first watch, enduring Arthur's teasing about being diligent for once with good spirit, and even making stew out of the rabbits they'd snared happily. Once he was sure his companions were asleep (and he may have put a tiny sleeping enhancement spell on them as they ate), he cast another spell that made them invisible to any passing threats and with soft tread made his way back to Freya.

She was waiting for him, cross-legged on the edge of the water, a wide smile gracing her features. He greeted her with a kiss and swept her into his arms and didn't let her go for another hour, then spent the rest of the night talking with her.

And other things, but nobody need to know about that.

When it was time to return back to Arthur, Merlin kissed her goodbye and promised to come back soon, reluctantly making his way back with tired feet.

He stifled a yawn as he prodded Arthur awake, and if the king didn't believe Merlin's explanation of not waking anyone up for their watch shift as him not being tired, he gave no indication of it.

Likewise, if any of the company noticed Merlin's inattention on the ride back or his slightly dopey smile, they made no comment.

* * *

A/N: I'm going to be really cheeky now.

My younger brother has autism and struggles with communication and as such he's really lonely and gets bullied by other kids his age. I'm trying to raise money for him to get on a course to improve those skills, so I set up a page [here](gofundme.com/2ke7k7w). If you can donate or even just spread the word around, you will have my undying gratitude.


End file.
